


January

by JDBeckett



Series: 365 Prompts [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-22 08:45:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 38,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3722590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JDBeckett/pseuds/JDBeckett





	1. Suitably Warm

It never has gotten cold enough, in the years he has lived there, for snow to be present in much more than thought but the nights did get cold enough that he could appreciate nestling along his new couch with a blanket and the fireplace crackling lightly just a few feet away from him.

The insulation wasn't done quite properly yet in the walls of his new home and while he was more than aware he could have stayed in his old apartment until all had been done to completion, he couldn't have handled another day with his old landlady, she had been driving him batty, so the thought of moving out and into a mostly, but not quite, finished new house where he only had to answer to himself, had sounded wonderful.

It was cool outside but with the fire and the blanket, he was just cozy, warm and comfortable. He couldn't really want to ask for more, it would have been foolish. His life was far from perfect and he wasn't looking for perfect, all he wanted was quietness and maybe, eventually, company. Yael had refused his last invitation but he figured that it wouldn't be much longer until the slightly younger man was a presence, if not at his side, then in his home. The place was more than large enough to accommodate the two of them comfortably in such a way that they most likely wouldn't even have to see one another on a daily basis.

It wasn't the best of plans but it was a starting point and Quentin was aware of that just the same as he was aware of the rest of his life as it was slowly coming to settle in a way that was almost comfortable. Up until recently he hadn't wanted any kind of closeness with anyone, he hadn't dared imagine that humans wouldn't find him guilty of hiding away who he was and some other nonsense he didn't want to think about. Yael was different in that they were the same. Different kind of 'same' but still the same, in the long run.

For now, as he mused over eventual (perhaps!) companionship, Quentin merely closed his eyes, nestling down into the plush comfort of the new couch. It was just one of those things that he could call his own, something he had paid with his hard earned money and it was one of the most comfortable spots in his surroundings just now. He could have slept there, if it hadn't been for the sound of the wind whistling softly through one of the windows he knew needed fixed up before he could go anywhere with it at all.

The sound was just enough of a nag to keep him from sleeping where he was, despite drowsiness, warmth and contentment. He needed quiet and peace to be able to rest properly and this was just one of those things that would keep him awake. For now however, he was still too content with his life as a whole to really want to go anywhere, to want to budge from his spot. Once exhaustion really crept in and the window kept him awake, should it in the long run, he would see about moving himself from where he was now, dragging his blankets along, to head off to the other end of the building where his room eventually would be.

For the time being, all it was, was a large room with a hammock hanging from the ceiling but it was comfortable just the same, it just wasn't as warm as the spot he was at, at that point and that just made it a less appealing area. Had Yael been there, perhaps the young artist would have been able to convince him that the comfort of a mock-real bed with no whistling window was better than that of a couch, fireplace and blanket (and nagging window whistle!) but alas, Quentin was still quite woefully by himself and there was not a soul about to persuade him to move so he wouldn't.

Perhaps he'd even lose sleep over it though it seemed unlikely. He wasn't quite so foolish as to let himself fall into a lack of sleep because a particular room was a few degrees warmer than the rest of the place. In time, he knew himself well enough for that, he would move but for now, it just wasn't happening.

It was as he listened to the crackling of the fireplace that he felt his lashes begin to finally dip and fall over his eyes. Of course the wind still was having a ball outside, being loud and whistling its way inside but it had faded into the background of Quentin's worn mind. He couldn't recall just what he had done recently that had left him actually willing to doze with such an annoying background noise but the exhaustion was all there and he drifted off.

 

When he woke again, he realized he hadn't budged. He'd actually slept in the living room, the fire was long dead—though perhaps not that long as the room still was mostly warm—and the wind was still whistling though it was a much quieter sound. Perhaps whatever storm had been about to come and bury them whole (he couldn't recall last it had snowed enough for that in the years he'd lived in the city) had come to pass. Perhaps that was why the place felt still as warm as it was now.

He eased to his feet, stretching the stiffness out of his muscles as he yawned and walked towards one of the windows. The floor was colder than he had wanted it to be, it left him shivering as he paused by the window and looked outside, past the glass and saw nothing that would explain all the whistling he'd heard. At least not in terms of snow. There was nothing out there, not even hints of snow. There was some frost but it would be gone before long. As soon as the sun would warm slightly it would be no more.

Moving away from the window, he went back to the couch and merely flopped again with another wide yawn. He still was tired, it was strange. He hadn't had many good nights of sleep recently, his old landlady had nagged him almost incessantly about something or other. He was just glad he'd found someone else to take the apartment but he felt bad for Eoghan. He just hoped the guy had more patience than him. It would take a world of it to handle the cranky old woman.


	2. Candy Apple Red

"Stop this very moment, don't you dare put any more paint on that wall!"

"Wha- wait, why?"

The wall had been painted, the colour was not quite ghastly but it wasn't far from, maybe because it was still fresh, one could only hope that once it dried it wouldn't be that ugly sort of orangy-red, it just wasn't right.

"Because that colour is atrocious, Quentin. We went to pick those colours together, why is it that you're using this one? I don't even know where you got it from!"

At least the idiot had the decency for looking sheepish though he could only shrug, his lips quirked to a half smile that was full of uncertainties. Yael had to remind himself that Quentin still wasn't used to the presence of others in his life, though they were hardly more than friends sharing an overly large living area. The other demon had a tendency for flinching at the smallest hint of a raised voice if it was aimed at him.

"It is the colour we picked though, see?" The words spoken ever softly, a little falteringly almost. It was the right colour too, it looked like that deep, gorgeous candy apple red it was supposed to while in the container. He couldn't understand why or how it was that it was so deeply orange-like once on the wall. Maybe it had something to do with Quentin's demon-gift. He had a better handle of materials of all sorts.

"All right, I can see that it is the right colour, I'm sorry. It just doesn't explain why it looks that way on the wall. Here's an idea, how about you see about setting up the living room instead? We looked through a lot of different fabrics and did bring a few back, you could see what would best fit with the decor? You manage that better than me."

Quentin, only sighing but managing the hint of a smile, shrugged again and straightened, mumbling something apology-sounding before he was stepping by his housemate to head off into the living room to do just what he'd been, essentially, told to do.

 

It was strange, this living together thing. He had a hard time wrapping his mind around it. He was more than aware that he was the one who had invited Yael to live with him, had even asked several times until the young artist had agreed to the idea, he just hadn't known what he was stepping into.

It wasn't a bad thing, it merely required a lot of adjusting on his part. So many years spent avoiding others by fear of being found out and stoned, or who knew, staked even, it would take more than a couple of weeks for him to wrap his mind around everything.

"I didn't mean to mess the colour up!" He called the words out across from the living room towards what was turning out to be a studio of sorts where Yael would be working and he heard the young man merely laugh warmly in response. Quentin shook his head and went right back to what he had been doing, he was looking through bits of fabrics and taking note of what did look good with the colours of the living room, the almost stark setup. It suited him (and Yael it seemed!) just fine.

 

The colour ended up being just the way it should have been and it was exactly how he had envisioned it. He still had no explanation as to why it had taken such a strange orange like shade with Quentin being the one to do the painting. Of course he'd had to paint over the wall that had already been done but it hadn't taken much time, he was more than pleased with the way things were turning out.

"It's fine, Quentin, the colour is just right now. We'll keep you to fabrics and me to the paints from now on, no harm done." There hadn't been any so he wasn't about to lie to the other about it all. What little mock-harm had been done, was now undone. The room was the way he wanted it and that was all there was to it.

"Once we're done with this place, it's going to be absolutely amazing." The words more to himself than spoken for the other in the building with him.

Yael surveyed the room before he was gathering what little was left of the paint and taking it back outside into the hall, out of the way. The door was eased shut though he knew the windows were cracked open just a hint to allow the paint to dry. At least that way there would be no prints out and about as there had been before when his rather playful four legged companion, a tiny little kitten he'd found in the street, had found its way into the freshly painted kitchen.

**That** had been a disaster.

Then again, it hadn't been too hard to fix up the mess but still it had taken time. Not that they were working on a timeline but it had set them back and they had had a need to get more paint before continuing on. Yael wasn't sure which of the two situations was worse, really. The strange tale of the beautiful candy apple red paint turning to an ugly orange shade or the paw prints they'd found everywhere alone with stains of unknown nature?

Not something he spent too much time thinking on, it really didn't matter much in the long run. Everything had been cleaned, dried, they'd waited a day more and had painted the whole place anew, making sure that everything was as 'safe' as could be.

Yael, of course, had made a note to himself about how Quentin had a soft spot for cats, at least the stray ones so far. Maybe once they settled into living together as they were trying now, he'd mention the idea of getting a cat. It might do some good to the too large roof that was settled over their heads. Though for the time being he was more than aware that a lot of the ground floor area wasn't actually finished. He'd seen the plans, there was nothing set out for that area first.

He didn't know what Quentin wanted to do with it all and it wasn't quite his place to offer ideas at this point. He was just the guy who was living there because he'd been offered the roof, in the end. Not that he thought about his situation that way but the building was Quentin's property and Yael didn't really want to try to get into the other demon's personal space just yet.


	3. I Didn't Go There

"Just be careful while you're out there, okay?" The words were offered quietly with just a hint of uncertainty. They were friends, nothing more. It wasn't quite right for him to worry as much as he was doing now about the other. It was a subject neither one of them was ready to broach just yet. A subject that was likely to never even be broached, really. He was too much of a free spirit, easy to befriend others with his masked-smiles that no one ever saw too, and his friend was a loner who trusted too few people. Yael just had to be pleased with the fact that Quentin had wanted him to move in at all. The whole thing confused him still, but he tried not to think on it too much.

 

It had been just a few days ago that Quentin had been the one almost drowning in that uncertainty following the strange paint-colour incident but things had settled easily and quickly, neither of them had really spent much time thinking about it and instead had focused on getting the rest of their little (though it was hardly that little) home decorated and set up so it could be nice and comfortable.

They each had their bedroom, his colourful and filled with pillows, a seated hammock in a corner, a small desk in another since he had a whole room to himself on the lower floor to use for art, he didn't keep much more than a sketchbook or two in his bedroom. Quentin's bedroom he had only seen glimpses of, didn't dare go in unless he was invited. The other demon was much too secretive about things at this point. Still he had seen pale and dark intermingled somewhat, he had seen a darkly covered bed and heavy curtains over the window.

He wanted Quentin to trust him on a basis that was more than merely just because they both were demons. They both were different from the world, it was what had drawn the weaver demon to him. They were of two different breeds of demons but still they were not human, in any little way at all so it had felt different to meet the introverted young man. He had sensed a differences but he hadn't been able to really tell what kind of demon this one had been either until he'd been told.

So even if he was curious to know just what kind of person Quentin was, he didn't poke around, he didn't dig. It wasn't his place and it never would be unless the other opened up to him in some way, that really was all there was to it.

 

Quentin had looked at him with some curiosity when he'd offered his worried words. They always were careful when they were out but in the few weeks he had known and spent time with him, Quentin had never gone anywhere much further than the store, a few streets away for a walk or the park. This was a first trip out of their little city and even beyond the country. Yael was aware he couldn't force Quentin to stay in, even if he had himself more than a bad feeling about the situation.

So all he could really do was worry as he waved his friend off, a small travel bag on, filled with thick socks and a coat heavier than he'd ever had any need for but the other had mumbled something about a brief trip off to where he had spent his childhood because someone had kept on writing to him about getting back together to discuss the good old times.

"...he didn't sound like they'd been good old times to him when he was packing up." Of course he was going to worry. His one mock-steady link with life (humans he spoke to now and again aside) was wandering off to spend time who knew where out into the cold.

 

Having the house to himself made it difficult to keep from snooping into that stark bedroom and digging around into whatever he could find about Quentin but he behaved, instead he mostly kept to his studio to the point where he fell asleep on the floor several times. He was working hard on a new piece, something that had been commissioned him by a client who seemed to appreciate the style he worked with, since this wasn't the first time they worked together.

What made it difficult to really focus, however, was that Quentin hadn't told him just how long he was going to be gone for. He had said a short while but it was hard to know just how long that way, no two souls had the same definition of a short while. So he let a few days go on by. Then a week. After the second one he started to really worry but since he had absolutely no idea as to his friend's whereabouts, he could hardly do a thing about it.

Yael started falling asleep on the couch by the third week, hoping, expecting and waiting a return that seemed too long to come. It was by the end of the fourth week that he woke, early in the morning, just a little before the sun had begun to rise, to the lock clicking open on the door and the hinges creaking just softly as the door swung open.

Hopefully, he thought, maybe just hopefully, next time, that little while wouldn't be quite so long. For the time being he rolled over and huddled a bit on himself. He would let Quentin come in, settle and do whatever it was he would need to do to settle back in before bombarding him with questions, if he even did that. If there were things to tell, maybe they would be told without needing to be asked for.

Tugging the blanket over himself a bit more securely, Yael simply listened to those steps as they stopped a few paces away from where he was. There was no shuffling and no words, only those steps starting again, heading down the corridor that lead to that stark bedroom he had avoided for the sake of things, for the fact that he wasn't a snoop and he hadn't belonged in that room.

He heard the dull thud of a bag being dropped to the ground and strained to hear anything else. All that came was a distant rustle and then the sound of water. The shower more than likely. Bathroom time was sacred time so Yael tried to close his mind to everything that surrounded him, tried his best to fall back asleep. It was best at this point.


	4. Why Didn't It Happen to Me?

It took several weeks, almost a month, following Quentin's return, for the young man to begin to open up about whatever it was that had happened while he had been out wherever it was he had gone off to for a month. A short while is what had been said and Yael hadn't been sure just how long that had been supposed to be. In the end it had turned out to be much longer than he had expected and the other demon had been easily angered since his return.

It had been like walking on eggshells no matter where he was in the house, so Yael preferred spending his time outside where it seemed to be safer. Being around Quentin, at the beginning, had been a learning experience, there had been good times and bad times but nothing half as bad as the way things had been during what Yael called the 'getting better' phase.

 

One evening, after nearly a month of careful eggshell wandering, Yael came home to his roommate sitting quietly on the couch, sipping whatever it was he was in the habit of sipping at night when he finally saw about getting up but the aura of anger, of don't-approach-me-or-I'll-maim-you wasn't there. He wasn't sure if it was a relief or not and decided on letting it be, letting Quentin be the one to do anything at all at that point, it seemed the much safer option.

So instead of stepping by the couch—though he did offer a half-smile to the other—Yael wandered off towards his room to hang his coat up, to set down the few things he'd brought back from his trip out to the store. Just a few more supplies. He'd been about to flop down on his bed when Quentin came knocking lightly on the door frame.

"I know I don't usually bother to talk about my life and I know you've been avoiding me and I know it's my fault and I don't know how to deal with any of this but I know I need to talk." It was all a bit jumbled but the general sense of things was clear enough. Yael motioned to the lightly cushioned chair settled in the other corner of the room and he moved to settle into the bean bag chair that was not far from it. He'd always found it comfortable when he did need to be as relaxed as possible.

"When I went back home, though it's not really home, this is home but I grew up out there, in the cold and white and the snow-" he was talking in a rush but still his words were mostly understandable. Yael reached out, touched his knee just lightly and Quentin quieted, a startled laugh escaping him before he closed his eyes. He shook his head and dropped it to his hands, taking in a deep breath.

"I went back there, somewhere in the frigid cold of Siberia. Because they kept on sending me letters asking me for updates on my life. They're the folks I grew up with but never really stopped to get to know because I felt so different from them that I didn't want to know them, I didn't want to befriend anyone else, I felt alone and I didn't want to belong, I was different in too many ways and it just kept me from opening up to anyone."

Shrugging, Quentin looked up to the ceiling before he closed his eyes once more and breathed again, he was rambling and was more than aware of it. "I didn't want to write, I don't even know how they got my address, it makes no sense. So I packed up and I went, I thought it'd be just a few days, see these people again, talk over whatever it was they wanted to talk about but it just didn't work out the way I'd planned."

 

It is rather rare that things go out as planned, much as this mostly one sided discussion Quentin had that went on much longer than he had thought it would. Still with everything he uttered off of his chest he did feel somewhat lighter. It was easier to wrap his mind around—though accepting was something else entirely—that he had essentially been kidnapped out of his hotel room and kept as a prisoner while they told him that they wanted to use him for his gift to take over something or other. He still wasn't sure how he had actually gotten out and that one didn't matter much, it wasn't important, what was important was that he had made it home.

Yael remained quiet while they talked, or more aptly while Quentin talked though now and again he would half-squeeze the other's knee as if in comfort. He didn't expect the troubled demon to want to be hugged at that point. He doubted Quentin would ever want to be hugged really. The story was a troubling one, something he hadn't much expected though his own childhood had been far from puppies and rainbows. There was nothing he could do, at this point, to really change the past, even though it tore at him to think of what had been done to his companion, his friend.

 

Over the course of the next few days, they saw to changing their phone number, Yael took over checking the mail and putting away the undesirable and slowly, ever so slowly, Quentin seemed to thaw out, the eggshells began to disappear just the same. Life wasn't quite the same it had been before, it likely never would be but still it didn't hurt to think positively and live life one day after the other, or in their case, one night after the other.

Yael kept a more than diligent eye on the mail. He made it his job to take it all to his room when it came in, usually when Quentin still was asleep so it was even easier. He went through each envelope and what was more than unwanted was put in a small box that he kept well under his bed. It wasn't every day they had new mail so it wasn't too complex a task. Before too long the troublesome letters did slow but they didn't stop.

When a particularly nasty one came in with the rest of the day's mail, he found himself sorely tempted to try to get the mail sent back with a notice that the address was wrong but he didn't think it would work out. Quentin had mentioned something about how they'd found him even though he'd never kept in touch, so even if he did that, he knew more mail would come in, probably even more if he did that kind of thing.

He merely made it his job to keep the mail safe and it settled into his routine easily enough. It wasn't much different from how things had been before the incident, at least in terms of mail, he was just a bit more observant.


	5. Shreds of Doubt

He wasn't sure how much longer his friend would stay about, if he did. Quentin wanted to blame the whole thing on his still somewhat recent kidnapping, it was the only thing that would make sense in the long run. He knew he wasn't better. Helping had talked about it but it hadn't fixed the issues that had cropped up following it. He had already had trouble trusting others, so this hadn't helped and he was aware of being twitchy and snippy around Yael. He could hardly help it but was aware that it was making things more than a little stressful between them. Yael looked thinner and restless, he paced and hadn't painted in days. Quentin wasn't certain at all that the other was going to stay.

Perhaps, the main trouble with it all, is that he couldn't seek help for himself. He couldn't really talk to anyone about what had happened unless somehow he managed to find someone who knew about demons and would understand the situation. It was hard to talk to an innocent (so to speak) human about having been kidnapped with threats to use his gifts to take over first the next village over, then the next and so on.

They had known more about his birth-right gift than he did. It made him wonder. Were they the reason he had been taken from his rightful home when he had been too young to really understand or even react? He knew what he was but not exactly what 'came' with his bloodline. He knew the basic of what he could accomplish but the things they had talked about had been different, things at a whole other level of weaving.

 

Quentin was pulled from (yet another) trip down memory lane when he heard the front door close ever softly. It wasn't hard to miss out on Yael coming in and out of their home since the couch he spent most of his free time in was just a short few feet away from that very door. He looked up from his no longer steaming cup, eyes partly hidden by too long bangs that did need a cut in a somewhat bad way and he watched the young demon nearly drag himself inside and towards his room where the door clicked shut just as softly.

"I don't know what's worse, doors being slammed out of anger or doors being closed so softly it's like it's being done on purpose so you forget anyone's even around..." His words soft, uncertain as he closed his eyes and set his cup down. He couldn't enjoy his teas anymore. Anything he ate or drank tasted like water to him.

Before he realized it, he'd eased to his feet and stepped towards the other's bedroom door though he stopped right in front of it, hand raised as if to knock but he stalled there. What was he supposed to say? What could he utter at all at this point? He'd spilled the whole of his sad story to Yael just a week or so back, there wasn't much more to utter. Yael wasn't a therapist and burdening him with it all seemed was hardly one of the better ideas he still could come up with, at this point.

Instead of knocking, he closed his eyes and listened to the sounds on the other side of that door, feeling his stomach fill itself with butterflies of uncertainty and fear that he was driving the one good thing in his life away by not being able to heal himself up. The room was quiet short of some rustling, more than likely clothes being shed, there the sheets being moved and a body settling beneath them.

As the room went quiet, Quentin stepped away as quietly as he could and went to his own room, perhaps he could try to figure things out there.

 

"I know I have nightmares on a daily basis, they wake him up, that contributes to the factor that he's hardly getting any sleep." He'd settled at the head of his bed, clutching a stuffed animal pillow to his chest, as if perhaps it could protect him from the world. "I know I can't take human pills, they knock me out in a bad way but maybe that's what I need, maybe it would help me sleep through a few hours so he could have some peace. He can't leave. There's just something about him... It might just be the demon blood and I might just be using him... but he can't leave... he couldn't right?... right... maybe."

Breathing out a softly bitter laugh, Quentin screwed his eyes shut and held onto the pillow all the more tightly. He felt like a rightful fool. He knew he couldn't keep Yael locked in (not that he was doing it!), couldn't force him to stay if he wanted to go but he was more than aware that it would tear him apart if the other demon left. There just was something about their fragile bond that was more than a little important to him and he would do all that was necessary to make sure his companion stayed and that out of free will. Being kept against one's will was a terrible sort of thing and he couldn't do that.

He knew it would take plenty of time for things to get better, for the ache and the pain and that feeling of having been turned against to leave him. It would leave emotional scars. All he wanted was to get better. He wanted to stop being mad at everything, he wanted to stop blaming the world for his own shortcomings. He should have known that nothing good would come from a trip back to the place where he had grown up.

Still, a small part of him knew that the truth was that he couldn't have expected anything. He couldn't have planned or prepared for what had been waiting for him. It just was how things were. Unless you were precognitive, which he was more than aware he wasn't and at times wished he had been, you couldn't predict the future. Hell he was sure that even if there were some folks out there who could predict the future, they couldn't do so by just snapping their fingers. It wasn't how gifts of the sort worked. That much he understood and accepted.

In a few hours, after Yael had had time to rest, perhaps he would go over, knock on the door, apologize. He didn't know. It was a thought that brushed his mind though it didn't stay long. What was he supposed to apologize about? Having been more or less tortured and threatened? That was no fault of his. Having recently been an asshole because he was trying to cope? It was also part of his nature, it could hardly be helped.

Maybe he'd just let it be.


	6. Can't Be

Everything seemed like it wanted to take forever before it settled and while it was difficult to be patient, it wasn't so difficult to take things one day after the other. Yael had brought home a leather-bound journal, filled with white pages waiting to be filled in and after a long, careful discussion on the benefits of writing down what troubled the soul, Quentin had taken to habit of writing down in that journal a little bit every day.

At first it had seemed as though it had little positive effects on their every day life but after two weeks of almost daily scribblings, it seemed that the distance that had settled about, that the nightmares that kept them both awake and that the pain that had refused to lessen to that day had done just that, lessen somewhat. It wasn't perfect, it wasn't anything close to a miracle but it was a beginning to that healing period that hadn't been about yet for the weaver demon.

It was another six more weeks before that first true, honest laugh was shared between the housemates. A sound that held no stress, that was real, born of a delivery mistake that neither one of them could have truly expected.

 

The night had been quiet with Quentin waking up around the usual time, that was just about when the sun was beginning to set and his room was right where it should have been to enjoy it. Yael's own room was on the opposite side of their home and he could enjoy the sunrise before heading to bed. There had been some food shared, quiet talk about the night's plans when a knock had come from the door. Those were uncommon but not all that rare, it was easier for Yael to have his art supplies delivered into the evenings since he was just about never up and about during the day. It always was a special request for the delivery to be done after certain hours, even if it required a bit of an extra amount on the shipping price.

He had gone to the door, leaving Quentin to finish gathering up their slight dishes from their meal and had signed for the delivery. It was a long box, bigger than he had expected and he couldn't recall ordering anything of that size recently. Quentin himself only ever ordered things now and again, even less often than Yael did so it was doubtful that he had been the one to order anything.

 

A brief look at the name on the box did clear up that it had been ordered for him, if not by him, and he wandered back towards the living room area where the box was set down on the couch before he wandered off to find the scissors to get the tape carefully cut up. He didn't know who the sending company was, he'd never heard of the name and the address was a foreign one.

Once the box was opened, out of it came out a long gown, the material seemed akin to velvet in deep, earthy tones. It was a lovely piece, really but it **was** a dress and that was something he didn't have much of an interest in wearing. He stared long and hard at it before he was holding it up to his slight frame.

It was at that point that Quentin stepped from the dining room and, of course, stopped and stared before he was almost folded in half with laughter. It was a sound that was more than welcomed but it still didn't explain the dress!

"Was that one of your ideas? You could have made one and saved up on the money this must have cost!" Quentin still was laughing too hard to answer the question.

It seemed as if it would have been a perfect fit, it was just fine for the length and seemed rather shaped for his slightness over the curvier shape a woman would have to fill that kind of dress usually. "Honestly Quentin, what am I supposed to do with this kind of thing?"

He had to ask, it was hardly something he could wear and the other's giggling, as he finally calmed down, while comforting as it meant they were getting better, was a bit embarrassing.

"I have-" he wiped at his eyes, laughter having made him tear up, "-no idea where that dress came from but I think it would look dashing on you, Yael!"

This was a side he had never seen to the other and he wasn't sure what to make of it. It wasn't a bad thing, it was new, daring really. Were they making progress in this relationship that wasn't really a relationship, in the end? Yael huffed gently, playfully really and he held the dress away from himself, looking it over quietly.

"It would, huh? Is that something akin to 'if you put it on, we'll go out somewhere and have a nice time' kind of statement, Quentin? You shouldn't dare me, you'll learn to know that I don't back down well from them, even if I end up looking something rather foolish when I go through with them!"

 

He did wear that dress, too, put his hair up, put some shine over his eyes. He liked to look good, he liked being well dressed and while a dress was pushing it somewhat, if it had such a positive reaction out of the other young demon, he didn't see why he would refrain from making use of it. One didn't go much of anywhere on the thought that things had to be a certain why, you could always deviate if you found it necessary. 'Can't', was an ugly word, really.

They spent the following hours wandering left and right. They went to a quiet little restaurant where there were several quiet murmurs of how lovely a couple they made. Of course those put a lovely blush on Yael's cheeks and he had to look at his reflection in the mirror a few times. He knew he could pass off for a woman but he hadn't expected to manage this well. Still, it was charming and Quentin was smiling.

They had a quiet walk in the park, side by side, merely enjoying the quietness of the surroundings. They had a small snack from a street cart on their back to their home where Quentin thanked Yael and kissed his cheek, saying he was more than a little thankful for the wonderful time together. It hadn't been much but it had helped and they should do it again eventually, more than likely without the dress though it had been an interesting extra to their outing.


	7. Where Will It Be Found?

Life usually had its way, Quentin found out, to help things along, to ease them up to the pace they should have had to reach a certain goal or destination, when it wanted to.

Things had been rough, uncertain really, since he had first moved out of his old apartment and into the remodelled warehouse. They had, for a brief moment or so, gotten less so when Yael had moved in with him though it hadn't lasted, by no fault of theirs. It had taken some months then, for the mistrust to slowly fade again, for that happiness that Quentin so very badly longed for to make an appearance again.

He 'blamed' this slowly blossoming happiness on a dress neither one of them had ordered. You really couldn't begin to imagine where happiness could be found and at times it was in the simplest of things.

No one had been forced to wear the dress (though it had been shipped to Yael's name! and did fit him perfectly fine as if he'd been measured for it) but it had happened, an evening out had been had, just the two of them having a good laugh but there had been something else there, something in Yael's eyes that had been hard to ignore.

Quentin had noticed that look almost immediately when the other demon had moved in with him but he had ignored it, hadn't really wanted to pay attention to it. It would have meant things he had been less than ready to face just yet. At first he had only wanted Yael about for the sake of not being alone, for the sake of being near someone who was like him in some way, so that he wouldn't have to be about humans for the rest of his life.

He couldn't explain why Yael felt any sort of affection for him, he hadn't done much of anything—that he could see at that point—to earn that kind of thing. Sure, offering the other a steady roof over his head for nearly nothing at all (barely a tenth of the living cost he could cover more than comfortably by himself) when he hadn't had one hadn't seen like much before but perhaps now it made some sense.

Quentin stopped thinking in terms of 'well he must feel that way because I did this' a few days after the dress incident. It hadn't been fair to believe that all that made Yael who he was and what he did was based on the fact that he was thankful and offering back something for the sake of having a roof over his head.

 

Their shared happiness came in little boxes and at times bigger ones, most of them unexpected but some were planned. One evening, after a particularly bad day of sleep where nightmares had plagued him in ways they hadn't in some time, he woke up to the smell of breakfast being prepared, or perhaps it had been just done then. He hadn't asked Yael if he'd done it because of the tossing, turning and whimpering he knew he did as he had nightmares or merely because he had felt like preparing them a shared breakfast, it would have ruined the gentle bit of peace he felt as he finally left his room and the nightmares back for the next few hours.

The night as a whole proved to be filled to the brim with little things, a delivery for more art materials, that new comforter that wouldn't so much smell of his past, that television set Yael had managed to convince him would actually be a good add-on in their living room.

Just before morning light broke, Yael had put in an old movie to play and they had settled to watch it with all curtains drawn so they could have proper ambiance. It was in black and white and Quentin found himself with so many questions he hadn't known where to start but he kept them to himself, just watching, listening. They had begun watching the movie on either side of the couch but by the middle of it, they had somehow gravitated towards one another and were sitting shoulder to shoulder.

It was when the credits began to roll and Quentin made to move to get up so they could go to bed that he realized Yael had drifted off, the young man's face nestled against his shoulder and he felt something flutter sharply in his stomach. It was so strange, so warm! He didn't have the heart to move the other despite knowing full well that he could have gotten away with it. He was strong enough but Yael was everything but a deep sleeper.

Instead, Quentin turned the television off and shifted just so, making himself comfortable and trying to make sure Yael was just as comfortable. The warmth persisted in him and he closed his eyes, breathing in slowly to let it out just the same. It really was strange, the places where happiness, the simplest of forms of it, could be found. He couldn't have found it in himself to complain about how his day had gone. A few more of those and he knew his life would get easier, it was just how it felt at that point.

 

When he woke up, he still found himself settled comfortable, calm and peaceful with Yael settled against him. Breathing was slow and steady. The television was off, there was nothing for anyone to worry about and he didn't feel any clawing need to get away from the situation in which he currently was.

He was trying to understand how it was that he felt at such peace with the other against him. Perhaps it was that they were similar. Both demons by blood but it hardly would make sense in the long run. It was hardly because he was similar to Yael that he felt the need to grow closer, to know better, to learn more. He supposed it didn't change much in the long run. So long as his life could take on an easy sort of sway.

He let his gaze drift about slightly and he still could see the light peering somewhat from behind heavy curtains. He hadn't sleep all that much. He didn't feel much of a need to drift back to rest again but he stayed where he was. He would until Yael shifted and woke, moved away first. It seemed the better plan. No point in waking the other up before he was ready to be up and about.


	8. Three reasons

When Yael brought me this book, this leather-bound journal, I didn't honestly want much to do with it. It took a long talk for him to convince me that it might do me some good to write in it. Not just to write down what happened to me while I was out there in Siberia, but just day to day thoughts. It's what I did and I still do. It has helped in more ways than I thought was even possible and I wish I could do more than just be thankful for all he's done for me. He very well could have turned his back on me, packed up what little belongings he has and find another dwelling to settle in.

It's not because he was homeless that I invited him to come and live with me. I felt there was a connection between us and that was before I had even met him. I'd seen some of his graffiti work and I felt that pull, it was in the energy attached to the work in question that set off that pull that made it so we're both here today, together. Well, we're not _together_ in that way and it frightens me that I've started to even think about that. I don't know how well I could handle thoughts of wanting to be together with him in any way other than we are now, as friends. I don't want him to think that anything I might want for him or with him is based on the fact that we're both demons.

So I figured I'd set myself out with small things I appreciate about him, things that make me feel fluttery and warm when I think about him. Maybe, if I do manage to set these down, I'll better understand whatever it is I seem to feel about him. That warmth has been slow-spreading since that night in the living room where he ended up falling asleep against me and I let him. I could have gone back to my room but I didn't.

  


So here's to this list. I figured I'd start with a short one, these are the first three things that come to mind anyway so I guess it's a good start:

1\. ~~He's like me~~ He's strong.

Where do I start with this? It's true, he's like me but it's not a valid answer, it's everything but a valid answer. He's like me but he's not afraid of being out there with the humans and the rest, as if there were no fears of being discovered in him. That makes him absolutely strong in my eyes and I don't know that I could ever be that strong myself. I wish I could be and at this point I know I'm being a coward in wanting to blame my past and how I was raised, how I was kidnapped as a babe and raised with other orphans in a building that was falling apart in a place where I'd never _not_ seen snow. 

From what I've learned of him at that point, he grew up in an orphanage here in Dunkerque, so we're similar but we're different mostly in how our childhood went, I guess it counts. But he's outgoing and strong and he just smiles every day, even when he's not feeling it. Not once has he lashed out at me for any reason at all and I'm thankful for that too, I know I've made life miserable for us for a long while already, at least now I've gotten, and still am getting, better and I think we're done walking on eggshells because of me.

  


2\. He's inspired and inspiring.

He's an artist, what he draws is just absolutely beautiful and I don't know where he gets it from. I don't know what kind of demon he is and I'm not about to ask but all he draws, all he paints, what he cuts up from magazines and puts together on these pages, it's just beautiful. He has talent I hadn't ever really seen in anyone else before and it's not because we're similar that I'm saying that. I have seen plenty of artists as I was on my way away from Siberia and to France and what he does amazes me.

Adding to that, watching him paint or seeing him walk out of his studio with a smudge of charcoal or who knows what else on his face is amusing, I can't help it. He's so self assured in what he does that it makes me want to do something not so different, it makes me want to be a better person, to do more of what I can do and better the world in some random, strange ways.

I can only weave, so far only materials of most any kind though if I pay any mind to what happened to me while I was snagged back in Siberia in my recent trip, I might be able to do more than just that, but I don't want to think too much on it. Yael has offered to draw up fashion, as he calls it, or household items that I could work my way around to better. A pillow, a new curtain that would be absolutely unique. He thinks we'd make a great team. 

Maybe.

  


3\. He's beautiful.

This is one of those things I'm a little afraid of writing down but I need to do it. I find myself noticing it again and again, the strange icy-blue glow of his eyes, a color I'd never really seen on anyone before. They almost make him seem blind though I know so much better. The way he wears his hair, usually up in ponytail without ever complaining that the weight of it is causing him headaches. He tends to color a few strands now and again depending on his mood. Often it's green though I've seen him go with blue or red or even white or purple at times. All the colors look good on him.

I've been noticing how the clothes he wears fall on him, how they settle down the slight curve of his shoulder, down his arms, his back to settle along his ass and I have to admit that I've thought about reaching out and squeezing it! The thought makes me blush so much at times I think I could explode. His fingers are so fine, artist's finger and much as I've imagined my hand going to squeezing places, I've thought of how his fingers might feel just playing with my hair or straightening my clothes before I head out.

All of these thoughts, I honestly don't know what to make of them, they really frighten me in ways I can't understand. Though maybe not so much frighten, they just make me a bit uncomfortable. All I really want at this point in my life is to take things one day after the other. I can't go about rushing things in life, it wouldn't be right. So really, one day after the other.


	9. Chance

I'm pretty sure I'll look back on this day and tell myself how much of a fool I've been. I don't even understand what's driving me to do this. Maybe it's the weather, the flowers that are sprouting out and about, left and right and dead center, maybe it's the pollen from these flowers getting into my brain and telling me to do foolish things. I don't know. All I know is that my brain is telling me that I have to chance it, I have to give it a shot, a try, else who knows really, when I might next be so brave as to do this?

The dress was something else altogether. It took no courage to put it on, I wasn't even thinking at that point. All I saw was that it was doing him good and it was the only really important thing then. I wanted him to be happy, I wanted to see him smile in ways I hadn't yet. Or at least, I hadn't seen recently.

The past months, since his return from Siberia (a detail I've learned but recently), have been difficult for both of us. For him because of what happened, of the nightmares I know he gets because he'd wake up screaming, of his fear of them popping back up and taking him away again though he hides it well.. for me it was a little different but I was afraid of doing anything that would frighten him, that would make him uncomfortable, anything that would do anything but please him so I did all I could think to do, I avoided being in the house best as I could.

Still, these things have been worked out, are still slowly being worked out but it is much better now than it was just a couple of months back. Time seems to fly lately and I know that in my dreams I reach out and try to grasp at it all to try and get that time back. I feel like it's all flying away from us, like we're running out of time. When I wake up I have to remind myself that we're both demons, that we have more times than the mortals I've spent the rest of my time around. We're not eternal but we're not going to die any time soon, at least not of natural causes.

Over the past week I've half-settled back into the routine I had before I moved in with him. I don't mind getting up with the sun setting and going to bed in the morning, it was actually easy to fall into that routine but lately I've been wanting to see a bit of the daylight I had been missing out on so I've been mostly up and about in the early afternoon, awake and leaving him a note as to my general whereabouts so he won't worry and I wander.

I feel like I've changed in ways I couldn't begin to explain. When he found me, I was mostly interested in graffiti art, in painting over old walls with tags and pointless things. I never really had had any direction. Now, well now I walk around our little, so very quiet neighbourhood (thank god!) and I find myself wanting to paint this one scenery or that one. I find myself wanting to take out my pens and draw the sunrise, or just that one view from our window with the colours blossoming all about. I imagine what autumn will be like with beautiful leaves and everything else and the desire to 'art it out' swells in me.

This time spent outside away from him however has rather cleared my mind that I am developing a fondness for him that I know shouldn't be there and I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do about it. I really can't imagine that he would want that kind of relationship, his first few steps in my directions were because of what I am and what he is in that we're both demons, it's what attracted him to me in that sense and while I'm aware that he's moved beyond that to seeing me as a friend, I can't imagine it could go any further.

We're so different from one another, though I know that some claim that opposite attract, I don't know if that would work out for us. All I can do at this point is watch from a distance but that may not fix the issue for long. I've noticed sketches in my sketchbooks, the ones I keep in my room instead of in my studio. I must do those when I'm more tired than I had thought, they're mostly him, those sketches. At times I'll take a pencil and scribble and not really pay attention, at first it's just loose shapes but eventually they turn into more and I just.. I can't help myself.

This is a dilemma that I don't know how to resolve. Then again I'm not sure if it's much of a dilemma. Worst case scenario, if I decide I'm brave enough to tell him I'm growing to like him, is that he stares at me like I've grown a second head and decides to throw me out. I can deal with that. I've lived in the street for most of my life. It would be a loss of comfort but that comes with being honest. I don't really want to hide anything from him, at least not that kind of thing.

Maybe if I can't bring myself to tell him in words I could try to tell him with art, or maybe I could just up and kiss him though that might earn me a black eye or something. I had seen him around before, wandering the streets about his old home before he sought me out. He has a short temper when idiots are concerned and where his own safety isn't really in question. While I've yet to see him turn to violence, he can get quite loud and yelling at stupid idiots lets him blow some steam out.

I don't much care for the idea of being yelled at, or smacked or even thrown out, but if that is the cost of being honest with him, I guess I will have to chance it. Though maybe I should give it more time, make sure that what I am feeling is indeed more than just whatever it is I think. I'm aware it isn't lust, I've never really felt that. I've been affectionate towards others before but never in a sexual way and I don't know that I would start that kind of thing with him. Affection is one thing and I'd be good to survive on that forever if I could. Well that and food and rest but still.

I'll give it a bit more time, I'm sure it's all this pollen driving me crazy in the head and in the heart.


	10. essence of __________

The kitchen is a rightful mess and I'm not sure which one of us started the whole thing. Not that it would do us any good (or any harm honestly) to point fingers. There is flour everywhere and I think there's a whole bottle of vanilla essence, though it might be almond just the same, on the counter. The scent of it is pretty strong but I can't really tell at this point. I've been stuffed up with a cold or it's the pollen that's been out and about with the flowers of springs blossoming that's stuffed me up this way. Yael seems to be the same way lately, with the stuffed nose and the reddened eyes and the rest.

This room though, I'm not even sure what we were trying to prepare, all I know at this point is that there's a mess and no Yael in sight to help me clean it up. I'll get back to him before too long. Strange that I've begun thinking like that. I guess I'm less of a cold asshole and more of a somewhat kinder, more open spirit, at least with him.

We didn't even have a book open or a paper for a recipe, though it didn't much start as we, it started as Yael in the kitchen preparing something and when I walked by he asked if I felt like helping him. Something about how it wasn't a complex recipe but it was something he was wanting to try so I figured it might not hurt to give it a go.

From there I guess things just sort of went to hell, sort of. There was flour flinging and sugar flinging and we were both laughing our heads off so maybe not so much going to hell as just got messy. I can live with messy even if I have to clean it up after.

  


Cleaning up took a few hours, during which Yael did come by though he only helped a little and stepped back out again. I don't mind so much, he suddenly looked tired and I didn't want to ask him or to pry at that point, it wasn't the point. First the kitchen and then anything else that might need done.

When it was as clean as it would get—that is, still smelling of either too strong vanilla or almond but otherwise spotless—I did seek him out, see if he was alright. I found him sprawled on his bed, something I wasn't used to seeing him do at this hour, and he was fast asleep so I merely closed his curtains, tucked him in some and closed his door. I wasn't about to do anything that would be loud or disturbing but if he was asleep now, it was more than likely because he needed it and that's all I needed to know.

  


I twiddled my thumbs for a while, not feeling like reading, writing or weaving. 

I'd done a lot of reading recently, trying to read myth books and books on demons, hoping maybe to find a bit more about myself but I'd discovered that the only way I'd really get anything out of anyone or anybook about myself, would be to find someone else who was like me and I didn't know where to look. I'd done some writing and I had hated what I'd written down so that too was out of the question. Weaving, well I just had little to no inspiration currently, it was usually Yael who gave me all my ideas.

So I flopped onto the living room couch and I closed my eyes. I wasn't tired, restless really and I was on my feet just a few minutes later, wandering left and right as quietly as I could. What was it that I usually did before, when I was all on my own, before Yael became a steady part of my life? I used to wander, I used to read (which I had no desire for!), I used to brood.

A walk wouldn't kill me, so I located my coat, did leave a note, just in case and I headed outside. The nights still were somewhat cool so the coat was a bit of a necessity but I wore it unzipped, merely shouldered as I walked away from home and off towards the nearest park. At this hour I knew it would be empty, I knew that most flowers would not welcome me with wide open faces and arms and that, perhaps, was for the best. I didn't really need to start sneezing my head off again.

  


The park was a beautiful place to be at, in the middle of the night. It had only a few street lights and they were far and few in-between. If you wanted to see where you were going, you had to either bring a light of your own, or go wandering when the moon was full and the sky was clear. I had the moon on my side and the sky was mostly clear. That and I was so used to living in the darker hours of the day that I could see well enough in this mostly lack of light, it was perfect.

I found one of the benches, settled and closed my eyes. I wouldn't sleep here, of course not. But I would relax, listened to my surroundings, to the quiet of the night, the slight rustle of the branches as leaves began to open themselves to the new life that awaited them. I'd move from my spot only when that restlessness that had followed me from home would leave me. 

It must have taken a couple of hours, the sky was beginning to pale in the distance when I opened my eyes again. There still was not a single soul out and about but I could see the surroundings better. I moved to my feet, stretched and started on the way back home. Hopefully the sleep Yael had managed to get, had been peaceful without anything to wake him up. Maybe I'd prepare him something to snack on and leave it on the counter for him to have when he'd wake up. 

It was likely he'd be up during the day at that point, considering how much of his night he'd slept away but I hardly minded. It was his own life, he could sleep the hours he wanted and be awake when he felt like it. I wasn't about to force him to live with my own hours because I was used to living during the night where it was quieter. At least here, in this little bit of just-outside-the-city life we had. If we'd been anywhere else, where the night life was more active than the day-time life, I would more than likely have seen to living during the day, I guess I'm just that anti-social.


	11. Black Horse

Just for the sake of getting out of the house and spending time not worrying about the day to day bits and pieces of our lives, we decided on a small vacation. I think we mostly decided on heading off out of the city and even further out into the countryside because there was construction going on almost next door and they've been clanging and banging and just about being absolutely noisy (as they should, I'm aware) during the day time, which is when we try to sleep.

So we looked at a map, found the nearest less populated area we could find and packed our bags before we were on the train to head off. Of course, that threw us off our usual sleeping schedule but we've been thrown off for a couple of weeks now due to the construction. So when we got off the train in the mid-morning sun, we were only half-tired and Quentin was mostly grumpy because he was going to burn (he's not that pale but he does burn to a point when he spends too much time in the sun, watching him peel is amusing to me!). 

We found a small bed and breakfast that had a view to a quiet little river and wide open fields when we had looked about for information on the place to not land ourselves there and have nowhere to stay at. We'd called early on, had seen about having two bedrooms that were preferably side by side. This was one of those things that were necessary to convince Quentin to come. He still didn't interact with the populace well and he had almost asked for a shared bedroom, _maybe they'll have two twin beds_ , he'd pointed out and I did ask the kind woman on the phone but they didn't. Only rooms with double-beds. So we each had our own, side by side.

  


From the beginning of our little adventure, Quentin has spent most of our time inside in my room with me, the only time he's been in his has been to shower and sleep, it's adorable in its own way.

On the first day, we just sat back, looked out the window and relaxed with the soft breeze that was drifting in. The air was so pure here. I could have imagined myself living here but I don't know that Quentin would have been as comfortable as I was, though it was further away from the world, he still had need for a few things that were easier to get in the near-city.

Most of our mornings, after we've had a little bit of breakfast, are spent sitting side by side, shoulders touching as we just laze and look out to the beautiful view we have from my window. There's that warmth pooling inside of me every time he leans against me and I'm still terrified of thinking about what I might or might never do about it. It just feels right, the more time I spend with him. I try not to think too much about it. He seems to notice when I stop lazing and start focusing.

  


Today, we decided on a walk, the weather is lovely, there's just that warm breeze, not a cloud in the sky and we see no reason not to head outside to exercise a little. We don't really need it and we did come here to get away from the noise but it seems foolish to stay, essentially, locked inside as we're doing now.

I have to shove him back to his room so he can get his jacket, just in case, while I fish mine out of my bag to set it to my shoulder. We meet back up, down by the stairs and slip outside into the quiet beauty of Spring. I'm didn't much care, before, for the 'beauty' of things. I was too focused on getting even at life by scribbling away pointless art and tag on old walls, I'm not sure what was going through my mind at that point, Quentin has opened my eyes since then.

There's a little pathway not far from the bed and breakfast, the owner had told us about it, so we turn ourselves to that direction. We have in mind to just wander aimlessly, follow the pathway and when we feel the need to, we'll turn around. 

At first, it weaves through fields of wild flowers, just growing as they might wish to with no one to tell them how to go about with things. On our left, something large and black seems to be wandering as aimlessly as us and I have to laugh when Quentin asks to know what the hell (his words) that is. I tell him about horses and ask him if he's never seen one or heard of one before and that does seem to be the case. The size of the animal doesn't frighten him, from the looks of things. I can only feel curiosity coming off of him in waves, as if a child first discovering something brand new. This trip really was a good idea.

To his request, we stay where we are for a while, his gaze rarely leaving the large stallion though it barely seems to notice us. After a while, perhaps put off that the beast hasn't come our way despite the stillness of our bodies, we move on, still following the pathway. It eventually takes us into a small bit of forest though I don't know that I'd call it that since it hardly is dense enough but there are trees and they do get denser further on. The pathway however stays on the edge of these trees and lead us about.

Just as I know I'm beginning to feel the burn from the rather long walk and I have to assume he is as well, Quentin points out that the same horse (it had to be, we hadn't seen any others) was just a few paces away from us. Of course there was something of a fence between us but that was aside the point. The pathway did look familiar enough and, craning my neck to look further ahead, beyond the fields of wildflowers, I notice the building that is our bed and breakfast. So perhaps not a bad thing, it seems as though the pathway brought us back, nearly so, to our starting point. It was a good length, maybe we'd walk it again before heading home.

When we get back to our rooms, I'm more than happy to collapse bonelessly into my bed, my shoes off and my whole body telling me that it had been some time since I'd last walked that much. I used to walk a lot more, before Quentin offered me a roof over my head. Now I admit that most of my walking is to help with the groceries or to gather my supplies.. or the few times where I head off to find some inspiration in what surrounds us. Maybe I'll get back to exercising a bit more.

What surprises me is Quentin flopping down next to me just a few minutes later. He laughs sheepishly at my startled expression but I only close my eyes, appreciate the heat coming off of him, his presence next to me, the slight scent that's all his. This is comforting a reality for me, I could get used to it.


	12. Heartstrings

Today is the last day of our little get away to the country side and I don't know if I want to see the whole thing be done and over with or if I want time to stop right here and now so that I can cherish these very moments forever. I bet he doesn't even realize he's doing it. I'm pretty sure he doesn't realize he's doing it. It's just the way he's developing his affectionate side and it's so sweet but so painful in its own way. 

Once he realizes that he can feel affection for others, maybe even the non-demon kind (by that I mean humans), he'll more than likely seek others, I'll still be the friend he invited into his life because he was familiar but I'll just be that friend he can turn to in times of needs. He's tugging at the strings that are so securely wrapped around my heart with the simplest of things that I'm afraid of what might become of me when that time comes.

It's in the simple things. We went on another walk today, since the weather permitted, it was raining yesterday. We went along the path, waited by the horse that he still is so fascinated with and it came to us so he reached out, could pet the big guy's face and we continued on. About three-quarter of the way through the path, while we knew it would take us back to the bed and breakfast, we decided on turning around. We were just enjoying being outside.

He was so tired by the time we came back, even more than I have been, that when he flopped on my bed, he dozed off ever so peacefully. So there he was, in my bed, half-sprawled but half-resting over me. What was I supposed to do? I stayed still, I fell asleep.

When I woke up, he'd wandered back to his room and I didn't fault him for it. After all, we're just friends. 

We had dinner, chatted a little with the owner and went to bed. Well somewhat. We stargazed out of my window for a while and when he started nodding off, I nudged him somewhat and he wandered off to his room. I didn't really want him heading off, I would have loved for him to sleep next to me again but the spot against the window wasn't all that comfortable.

Morning was about before I wanted it to be, things were packed up and we were on the train before too long. The ride back was in companionable silence and we sat shoulder to shoulder. The warmth was comforting, welcome but still, those strings I could feel them tighten ever so slightly with every passing moment.

  


We're back home now. The construction next door is done and I'm not sure just what it is they did because I can't see much of a difference in the building. Though I guess most of what they did was done from the inside so I wouldn't be able to really see a difference.

So now I guess we go back to our regular routines. I'm not sure how that is supposed to work out for me. Of course we have to work our way back into the regular sleeping schedule too. That whole sleeping the day away and being awake during the night. I might go back halfway, I think being awake around early afternoon is a good thing for me. I still get to see plenty of the sun and its play on everything that surrounds us and I get to see the same with the moon.

Quentin, I know, is just more comfortable with his night life and I don't blame him for it. I do understand it well enough, or so a point in any case. Maybe it'll be easier that way. We'll see one another a few hours every day, less than spending whole nights together, getting my poor string-bound heart bound even tighter. I swear he's too innocent for my sanity. Or my heart.

  


It's still daylight currently, we've only been home for a couple of hours and seeing as we'd both slept the night away just hours before, it's hard to want to sleep, so I'm just sitting here, on the couch, pondering the hows of things. How I'm supposed to not be falling for him as he discovers the better side of life, how I'm supposed to not notice those little quirks. The way he pushes his hair from his face, the way I swear I can see a tail sway behind him at times, how he sighs when something bothers him, how-

…he's on my lap. This doesn't really compute and he's just looking at me with those wide golden eyes, full of amusement and all I can do is lift a curious brow at him. "Pray tell, was there no room anywhere else in the apartment or am I that comfortable?"

"Well, you're that comfortable, for one." Be still, my heart, that is just absolutely cruel. "But you were also staring off and starting to pull threads out of this pillow and it so happens to be one of my favourites and I was wondering as to why you were."

Oh. Well then.

"Was not staring off, was just.. well.. thinking." Same damned thing, I'm aware, but give me a break, this guy is gorgeous, he's sweet and kind (to me at least!) and he's half on my lap, just looking up at me with those eyes that I swear I could probably compare to molten gold on his good days and it would fit. 

"Did you enjoy the trip out?" The surroundings are quiet, no more hammering or clanging, no shouting or just all about noise. It's one of those things I do appreciate about this building. It's a bit away from the city center but not so far as to be an issue with getting about, but it's just far enough that we have quietness most of the time. Now in some years' time, when they'll see about developing more of this place, it might get noisier but maybe we'll have moved out by then. I expect at least a couple decades of peace and then some.

He shifts and settles and I feel that little string tighten just a little more, his eyes are bright and so is his smile, he laughs. "It was fun, quiet and peaceful. I liked that horse, it was nice too. Stargazing and all and the meals and just spending peaceful time away from everything else. Even if my body aches a bit from all the walking we've done."

So he had had a good time. That was the good point of this all, probably the only real point about having gone out into the country (construction folks aside). Anything to make him smile, in the end, even if he doesn't realize I'm doing most of it all for him. That's fine by me. I just need to see about making sure these little strings don't strangle my heart.

I'm not saying it's fragile, I don't think it is, I've never really let myself love before, I couldn't afford to. So I guess it's a waiting game. I can wait, I've had to before. So that's all fine and dandy. I just want him happy.


	13. Another Day

It turned out to be surprisingly easy to settle back into our regular sleeping schedules, even after the time we had to spend off of it. I guess it's mostly a matter of will and habit. I'm back to flopping down bonelessly in bed in the middle of the night or so and waking up in the early afternoon. Quentin went right back to getting up with the sunset and going to sleep whenever he feels tired, his hours are usually steady though.

I've given it a lot of thought and I still am, about how every little thing he does pull at these strings that capture my heart a little more each time and while I'm more than aware I've never really felt this before with anyone else, I can't help but be pretty certain that I am in love with him.

Every time I get up in the morning I tell myself _this is going to be the day_. But it isn't. When he gets up in turn a few hours after me, all sleepy-eyed and tousled hair, I just can't. My body is trying to take over currently, when I see him like that, I feel my hormones try to have a swing at me and I feel things stirring but I think about how it might anger him and it might just land me back out in the streets and it's like the biggest cold bath ever. It does what it should.

I don't want him thinking I want him in my life just because of his body, though part of me does want that but that's just part and it doesn't rule much of me. There's just so much to him. How he thinks, how he acts, what he says... how he looks. As is, I'm not even sure he'd understand what it would mean, to want him for his body. I could be wrong but I have been around him for a few months at this point and I've yet to really glimpse anything out of him that could be of sexual nature.

I mean… I've seen him first thing in the morning when he wakes up, I've heard him head to his shower to watch him, watched him do it—head to his shower, not watch him shower!—and I've yet to really _sense_ anything sexual about him. Like he could sense me through my tags, I guess we have that kind of connection. I mean, I could be wrong about it and he could be taking care of whatever business he has to in the shower or even in his room, but if he does, he's absolutely quiet about it. Silent really.

At times I have dreams where he'll be waking up before me or he'll just join me in my bed and start touching me, exploring me in ways I can only imagine he would and waking up from those leave the body rather aware of what could be. Thoughts of homelessness don't fix the 'issue' when I wake up from these and a shower is usually necessary.

  


Recently, the thought settled on my mind that I could head off to that little adult shop not far from town center, it's just out of the way, and buy something for myself. I wouldn't dare buy it online, we tend to open together everything that gets shipped to our home, just in case it either came from the folks he grew up around (which hasn't happened yet) or another order we can't explain (like that dress). 

I know it would likely not do me much good but it might offer some relief. Maybe I'm just too pent up about these things and that's why I feel the way I feel. If it does help, then it'll be all the better, I'll have known that a big part of what I'm feeling for him might just be lust, in the long run. I'll give it a thought.

  


Right now, he's still sleeping and I know I've been bad about it, sneaking glances at him. The house is kept just warm enough and he tends to kick his blankets off when he's comfortable. What doesn't help is that he sleeps absolutely naked. But it's so much eye-candy, all the sketching I've been doing of him... a lot of it is what I'd call safe for everyone, he's clothed, doing random, daily things. Some of them I'd call safe for our kind, I can't help but add in a tail to him, it just feels right. I'm not honestly sure why but it just does. The rest… well the rest I can't share with anyone else because he's hardly wearing anything and while most of those are tame in what he's doing or how he's posed, some of them I'm sure would get me punted back outside. Some of them I've drawn myself in with him.

He's sprawled, settled on his back. Golden hair framed around his face, he could be an angel if it weren't for his temper around most other folks. His skin is just so, I've yet to see any scars on him but I haven't exactly had the chance to look at him from up close and personal, I'm not sure he'd let me either so that's fine. From what I've seen though, he looks fine and that's in a roundabout way. I need to stop staring, I swear if he wasn't as innocent as I know he is deep down inside I'd claim he's doing all this on purpose to get a rise out of me. I want him in a bad way but I can't do that. At least not yet. Not today, not any time soon.

  


I walk away from his bedroom door as quietly as I can, slipping to my own room and flopping onto my bed. My mock-dilemma right now is whether I shower to deal with this issue, or I just snag my sketchbook to draw another scene, hopefully a little less steamy than the last one I did draw of us together in this very bed. Or maybe, that might not be a bad idea, I can get dressed and head out, head to that shop. They still should be opened at this hour.

That's my best option at this point, a walk will clear my mind and then, well I might just see about a shower and a discovery of whatever I'll buy at that shop. It's warm out, I wish it was just a little cooler so the half-chill could help me think clearer but the sun on my face might just do the same. I can't complain about my life just now, but I can complain, to myself, about my hormones and my string-wrapped heart though I don't mind the other at this point, it's a new feeling that I want to discover more of.

My hormones though, I swear if I don't do something about it, I'll end up banging my head to a wall or something so I can start thinking about things with the proper brain.


	14. The Colour Yellow

One of Yael's favourite colour is yellow. Or well, gold, depending on the possibility of things being gold instead of yellow. Like yellow flowers, yellow paint, gold jewellery though I've never actually seem him wear any as of yet. That's aside the point, I know. When he first accepted the whole idea I had of moving in with me, of accepting to have a roof over his head that was more permanent that temporary, he asked if, once the snow cleared from our own roof, he could set up something in there.

I own the whole building, we're the only ones in here at this point so I didn't see the issue and if it made him happy then it was all the better. The snow's been gone for a couple of weeks but he's been so busy doing I'm not sure what that I decided I was going to start up this setting-up a garden spot on the roof for him.

I figured it couldn't be that hard though I knew I wasn't being honest with myself. Despite being a weaver, I don't have a single really artistic bone in my body. I don't know where and to set things up so they'll look pretty. So what I did do, is set up a plan. I looked online, I found images, I took notes, I scribbled a lot and then I spent a few days just looking at the way the roof was setup so I'd know just how to change things about but then I had a better idea.

There is a second floor above us, and a third actually and they're not in use, I haven't found a use for them. I told myself, _why not? That way he could have that garden year round_. It wouldn't require too much change to the floor setup itself, though several additions would need done. Change the windows to something more resistant, cut out whatever bit of wall was left to replace with those windows, in short, set the floor up so that every wall in every direction was window, tinted in such a way you could see out but not in. He still deserved his privacy.

Though maybe, here the thought crossed my mind, what if I did that with the second floor and opened up the third in a sort of mezzanine? So bigger elements could be set up where the ceiling was so much higher and it could all grow and he could have a quiet little spot in that mezzanine for slighter things. It was brilliant as far as I was figuring out all the details. It would cost, but so what? I could afford it and it would be lovely.

  


Being with Yael in this way, just living together, spending time together, it has changed me and I'm aware of that, I think it's a good change. I'm a little more comfortable with humans, though that's just a little but without that I wouldn't be able to pull off this garden thing. Of course he's bound to notice things are happening, we'll have folks walking over our heads and above us for a little while, while everything is being set up but I think that can easily be explained.

We'll have to, again, change our sleeping schedule since I don't think anyone will want to come and work in the evenings and at night, plus sunlight is usually necessary for most of these things and I can live with that. Yael already lives most of his time during the sun-hours, though well, no, only half of his time and I wonder if he doesn't do it for me. He could live his life only in the day time, I wouldn't fault him for it but he does half-days. Wakes up in the early afternoon and goes to bed much later at night.

I could take him off on another vacation while they work the set up above us but I want to be able to keep an eye out on things, how they'll reinforce the floor and the pillars settled about, the windows. The set ups for the slight trees and the fountains and the rest. I even want heaters set up in places to keep the whole area as warm as it should be so things _can_ grow and do so strongly.

  


The vacation we had at that bed and breakfast was wonderful though. The walks we took, the stargazing we did, the horse! I'd never seen a horse before in my life and at first I thought it might try to eat me but it kept its distances from us. It's only on our last walk outside that I finally did manage to pet it. It was so soft! A slight part of me now has a desire for a horse but I'm more than aware we would need to live out in the country if this were to happen, so I'm thinking about a 'let's not'. 

Maybe instead we'll get some cats. We might have to keep them off the other two floors, though if they're not out to destroy the plants, I don't see why we'd have to. Still the first floor is huge on its own and there still are rooms that have no use, maybe one could be turned into a playground of sorts for them.

  


Spending time with Yael really has changed me. When I first came here, in France, I just wanted a quiet little place, a roof over my head, I wanted to survive, to just live one day after the other and that was honestly that. Now… well look at me now, planning to set up a huge two-floors (somewhat!) garden for him, thinking about maybe getting a pet or two. I know pets require attention and I can learn to do that, it's not an issue. I think I'm adapting well enough to this life that surrounds me now, all thanks to Yael.

He's been a gift sent to me when I was thinking my life could only get duller, more bland. He's colourful and playful and he's just, it feels good to spend time around him and it makes me feel so alive I'm not sure I could have managed any of what I have now if it weren't for him.

So I guess, in a way, I'm just trying to repay him for all he's done for me without even realizing it, I'm sure. Our 'relationship' as it is, should be a give-give one and I can't be the only one to take all I need from him without giving him anything back in return. So I'm going to do this. Just the changes so the floor area is an acceptable one for the setup of a garden. I'll let him decide all he wants to plant and I'll plant with him. I think it'll be wonderful.


	15. Eyes That Can't See

I've had to fight with him to get him to the doctors. He didn't want to. I don't blame him, I don't think human doctors have ever really treated a demon and if they have, they've either kept their mouth shut, or they were wrong about who they were treating. I can only imagine the kind of reaction they'd have to seeing how quickly we tend to heal.

So I did have to fight with him and the only reason he finally agreed to go was because I told him he was one of us, the doctor that was. That was a lie, I feel terrible about it but at least I had an expert to tell me something, anything about his current condition. The answer was not what I expected but at least I can say I saw someone about the whole thing and I didn't just sit back and wait for him to heal, which is what we're having to do now anyway. Still.

Those beautiful golden eyes, I just want them to turn my way again and look at me, see me. Some asshole set fireworks alight right next to him. In the goddamned _store_! What kind of moron does this, really? The whole store went up and there I was, _outside_ just waiting for him to buy what he was wanting to buy without me seeing it, a surprise he said. It sure as hell didn't turn out to be a good surprise.

The doctor took a look at his eyes, I explained to him what happened and he said that all we could do was wait. Come back after I can't recall how many days to see the kind of progress that was being made in the healing department but I don't think Quentin'll let me do that. Even if I did tell him, as a lie but just to get him to see someone, that the guy was a demon too.

Hell, I know his hearing on his left side is nearly gone too and I just hope that's as temporary as the rest. Some would take advantage of that kind of thing but I don't want to. I want him to be able to hear me step up to him, I want him to know I'm getting closer. If I were any bolder I'd say I want him to be able to hear me just fine when I whisper in his ear to tell him how much he means to me. I'm just not that bold or crazy yet.

  


He'd been working around with a crew up on the second and third floor, fixing up... something. I don't know what. He didn't tell me and I didn't ask. It's his building and he's free to do what he wants with it. I'm just the friend living there with him, making his life and mine bearable or something like that. Today, when he woke up, he said it was all done but before he wanted to show me, he had to get something from that little corner store a few streets away and it's where we'd been when all hell broke loose. I mean that almost literally, when the first firework was lit, I guess it lit most of everything else that was on the floor because there were ambulances and fire trucks and the whole thing.

I managed to sneak Quentin away from the rest. I know he didn't want to be around too many folks and it gave me time to look him over, to clean him up and all that rot. I fussed over him, I admit it more than willingly, it gave me an excuse to touch him though it was all more than innocent. His face, his shoulders, I stayed above the waist. The rest of him was fine anyway. Well mostly, a few scratches and those were healed within a few hours.

  


Every morning now though, as of the past week, I get up when he does, usually a little before him so I can at least get myself dressed, I step into his room since he's given me permission, I don't stray too far from him but I let him do what he wants, I can't really get in his way, I know he's independent and my fussing over him would probably piss him off in a bad way, or I don't know, I just haven't given it a try.

So I'm at his side, I half-lead him to his bathroom and get his shower started for him at the temperature he might be most comfortable with since he has issues getting the temperature right, at this moment and he's a bit irritable if he can't get it set after a few moments. I hand him his bottles and I still behave, I don't look. I can't. It wouldn't be right to do that to him when he can't tell what I'm doing. Never mind this half fantasy where I want to do the washing up myself, running the cloth over him and all, touching him, mapping him out. Still innocently, always!

When he's done washing up, I hand him his towel and I step out, making sure there's nothing in his way. I've set clothes out on his bed, usually nothing more than his usual pants and a shirt, the simplest of garments. Something he has no issues putting on though twice now he's put the shirt on backwards and it did give me an excuse to brush my fingers over him to get it over his head, switched around and back on again.

After shower, it's breakfast time, we haven't really had time to settle back into night living again and I don't mind much yet. I prepare him something simple and easy to eat before we're on the couch and I'm mostly just reading to him, or the television is on and I'm sketching him while he listens to it best as he can. I know he doesn't like this weakness but he's been as patient as I can imagine he might ever be in this situation.

What warms me, though I know he's just doing it because he thinks I'm going out of my way to help him, is that every night, when I help to get him settled in bed, he kisses my cheek just before I head back to my room. You have no idea how badly I have wanted to turn my head just at the last moment to feel his lips on mine but I'm not that kind of guy, not yet in any case, I couldn't do that.

If I kiss him, it'll be a willingly shared kiss between the two of us. At least now that he sleeps soundly enough and that he can hear me even less than he did before this whole thing, I'm not too afraid of getting rid of my daily frustrations and sexual tensions while I'm in bed. I'm still quiet, but at least I can hear him coming in if he does but he hasn't yet.

I just want his eyes to brighten and look my way again. I want him to smile at me and I want us to have some good times together again soon.


	16. Renovate

It took him three weeks before he was recovered. His hearing came back first. He hadn't really lost it altogether but he had issues hearing anything out of the hurt side but it came back easily enough, over time. After a week or so he could hear well enough that I told myself I was better off keeping my extra activities to the shower, which I did.

His sight, it was a slow return, but every day after the second week he'd say 'it's a little clearer' or 'everything is blurry and a little dark but I can see!' He was ecstatic and I was too. He could finally look my way, look at me though he wasn't seeing me quite yet, at least not clearly but I couldn't have cared less about these details, he was looking at me.

Of course, his getting better meant I didn't have to help him get around the house, didn't have to help him with his shower (that one was a shame though not really), we didn't have to stay locked inside. He actually insisted on stepping outside to see the world, best as he could while his eyes worked on finding their focus again.

  


This morning, he's the one who woke me up. I guess these three last weeks have taken out more than I had thought them to have out of me. I never heard him step into my room. I never felt his weight shift slightly on my mattress. What I felt was his lips, so tender and sweet on my temple, telling me it was morning and that it was time to get up again. I wonder if we'll be living by night again eventually. I don't know if I mind or not, I'm not sure. 

If I was alone out there still I'd sleep a tiny bit and be awake for most of the time, just trying to survive, at times this is still a little odd. I'm going to just try to sleep when I'm tired and be awake the rest of the time, I guess, I don't really see any other way to go about this.

But those lips on my temple, oh the speed my heart started beating at. I can't help but wonder if he could feel it, if he could tell. I hardly could help the startled gasp, really. This isn't something he'd ever done. The cheek pecks from the last three weeks were different, he'd been thanking me for helping him… I think. He never really said anything, he just did.

I heard him chuckle next to me as I blinked the sleep out of my eyes and fought my heartbeat back to a proper sort of pace. I stared at him long and hard, that cat-got-cream grin on his face seemed just so out of place. He was pleased with himself for some reason and I learned the reason why after I'd gotten up and dressed. He had briefly stepped back out of my room to give me some privacy but the moment I stepped out he had his hand about my wrist and told me it was time to show me my surprise. Of course I wasn't too sure what to think but I wasn't about to complain, I couldn't.

He said something about how he'd skip out on the big-bang celebration, that he'd had enough of that at the store when he'd gone in to get the celebratory extras and I was more than fine with that. I didn't want him hurt again. Hell I wasn't sure I wanted him to step into that little store ever again if I could help it. Foolish and childishly protective of me, I'm aware.

I'm not sure what I'd been expecting out of the renovations he'd made on the second and third floor but it wasn't what I saw when we took the steps to head up. At first I only saw light and windows and a few set ups for what I wasn't sure but when I took a second, long look, I think things started to clear up in my mind and make sense.

"I know you wanted to set up a sort of garden up on the roof but I told myself, let's make it even better, let's make sure he can have his garden year-round, beautiful and flowering. So I set this up. The floors are strong, there are raised beds where you can set up whatever you might want. The third floor is more of a mezzanine now so you have ceiling room for higher plants or climbers. You could even set up a couple of trees, given the root systems aren't the kind to go too deep but wide, instead."

I was speechless, really. I didn't know he knew that much about plants, even if it wasn't much but it was clear he'd gone out of his way with this whole thing and I didn't really know what to make of it. There was nothing yet, just a sprinkler system I could make out and a few small other things but in my mind's eye I could see flowers here and there, fruits and vegetables in another area and so much more. I was awed and that is putting it lightly.

What else could I do but hug him to show him how grateful I was? I kissed him too, that one is beyond me, I'm not sure what came over me but I guess it was time for that to happen and, I guess much to my surprise and delight, he did kiss me back. I'd been afraid he'd shove me away and tell me to get out but he was kissing me back and it was heavenly. He tasted earthy and spicy and I wanted more but he broke off and I just gazed at him, pleased and happy as hell and he was just grinning lightly at me. I think we were alright.

"After we get the seeds going here and the plants and whatever else you want, we'll start working on the rest of the first floor." At this point in time, we're only using about a third of the whole ground floor. It's a huge building. I'm not sure what he was planning for the rest but I had a few ideas and maybe I'd get a go at them, it could be fun. A pool would have been nice, after all and we had the room.

He leaned forward then, kissing the corner of my lips and I blushed just lightly, my head shaken as I looked over my new mock-domain. The garden would be mine to tend to, I knew and I wasn't about to complain. "This is all yours, you can do what you want with it. Just come back down to spend some time with the common folks now and again and don't get lost in the beauty of nature, alright?"

How sweet. I did laugh softly, feeling my eyes grow wet from happiness and I shook my head. "Of course I'll be spending time with you. None of this, none of the life I have now would be possible without you. I'm not going to forget that."


	17. Chocolate

This was new to both of us. I'm not even sure how it landed in the house. We buy the groceries together, so one of us must have picked it up out of curiosity or I'm not sure what and put it in with the rest. I don't even know what to make of it and its strange wrapping. It smells overly sweet and I've never been one for sweet things. Quentin on the other hand, I've learned likes things that are just as sweet as he is (yes, I'm corny) though he's only ever that sweet around me.

So here's the thing, we have a bar of chocolate in the house. I've never had any and just the smell of it alone sets me off in a somewhat bad way. I can't honestly handle sweet things when it comes to food. Natural sweetness like, I don't know, strawberries, those aren't too bad, but don't try to make me put strawberry jam on my toast, I won't. I just can't. I like my oatmeal plain or I'll make it savoury and put an egg on there, yes I'm aware I'm strange. Quentin, he'll eat it either with a bit of brown sugar or with a dab of jam. We can't agree to eat the same thing for breakfast though we usually decide on 'proper' meals for the rest of the day. Dessert is all his.

This bar of chocolate though, I'm really not understanding where it came from. We don't even go anywhere near that area of the store where they put in the sweets and the candies and the rest, well I don't. I do recall that I went off to get us our milk while he went I'm not sure where, we met back up in the frozen isle. So I guess maybe he could have gotten it but it seems doubtful, he's looking at it like it was miraculously dropped into our bags by some random stranger.

I guess it doesn't matter much, though if he's not going to eat it, we might as well drop it off somewhere, non-perishable foods dropped off for shelters are always welcome, though I don't know about this, it's not very filling, it's more a treat than anything else. Well I'm sure Quentin will figure something out with it.

  


I've been busy planting things up in the garden upstairs. I could call it mine but that wouldn't really make it so, it's more our garden really, it sounds right. While I've been doing that, Quentin has been planning on what he wants to do with the rest of the first floor. I've only seen bits and pieces of the plans but I did see a pool and that will just be awesome. I mean, I've never swam before in my life but it could be fun.

Recently, I asked him about, maybe, just maybe, having a cat or two and he said it could be an interesting idea. They're small, they mostly take care of themselves, just need to feed them and clean up the litter-box and I'm plenty ready to do that, it wouldn't be much of an issue. There's still a fair part of the empty floor on the first that has nothing planned for it so maybe after I'm done planting these seeds and these five rose bushes, I'll head back to my room to scribble down an idea for a cat play room, with shelves leading up to the ceiling and all around at the top with cat trees and the rest.

It's exhausting work, this whole planting deal. I didn't imagine it would take so much work to get it all started but it's good work, it makes me exercise in ways I hadn't in some time and I think it's overly good for me. Not that I was getting fat, I've always been too thin to begin with and I've just started filling out, but I might just be filling out a tiny bit in muscle mass. The emptying of bags of dirt in raised beds, the straightening of the dirt, digging for the plants that I bought already growing, taking care with the bags of seeds to set them out just so. It's wonderful.

  


Quentin is talking to himself and I'm not sure I can make out what he's going on about. He might have eaten his way through that chocolate bar after all and I'm not sure if I should be amused or frightened. I've yet to really see him revved up with too much sugar as I've seen a couple of times on the streets while I was out there. I guess I should go and look in on him just to make sure he's not doing anything too crazy, it wouldn't be quite right.

So everything is put away, carefully, I wash my hands in the little washing closet he's had set up just a few feet away from the door and I step down the stairs as quietly as I can muster though these stairs are very quiet so I'm not too worried in the end. He's standing in the living room and I have to be thankful that all of the windows are curtained and those are shut. He's shirtless. Not so bad at the moment but with how he's giggling and sort of half-prancing about, I'm thinking the rest of his clothes don't have long before they're shed.

I can't really watch him do that, while it would be amusing, it would also be taking advantage of him. I'll have to add in chocolate to the list of things to avoid. I know he can't take pills currently, they knock him out in a bad way though twice during his healing time after he'd lost his sight I gave him some, he was fussing and wouldn't really rest. The sugar from the chocolate bar seems to be doing the exact opposite. I'm pretty sure it also wasn't one of those high quality bars I've seen in some places, with some sort of percentage dark chocolate or something.

I mean, it's not because I don't eat the stuff that I can't look at it now and again. I'm pretty sure the bar that was brought home was one of those that are essentially pure junk, not in that it was bad way, but that it was just chocolate and sugar and meant to be a sweet rush and all. I guess I might be biased and it's not even something I can eat. It's a bit sad in its own way.

He's moments from getting out of his pants so I turn away and quietly make my way back up the stairs and I go right back to what I'd been doing before I first started hearing him go goofy from the sugar rush. I dig fine little holes and I set in the rose bushes, careful to pat down the dirt around them. I'll set the watering thingamajig up when I'm done setting them all to the dirt. It waters everything, so I put it on a timer and tada, freshly watered flowers without my having to worry whether or not they had enough or too much. It's a wonderful sort of things and currently it's just easier to focus on this than to focus on Quentin downstairs, prancing around naked. I don't know what to think.


	18. Wild Child

We have had to 'child'-proof the house. It turned out to be something of a learning experience. I'm not sure it could be called childproofing since it wasn't for a child but for the two kittens we got. The renovations in the other half of the ground floors aren't done but like any new, excited parents to be, we couldn't wait. Mind you, we did a lot of research before we went on a 'child' hunt like this. We looked at the needs of cats, how to take care of them and what they might require. We looked breeds over and figured out we were better off with a higher energy breed, it would keep us occupied in those quieter moments where we do wonder what to do with ourselves.

We found a breeder, papers and all (I did do most of the research while Quentin was mostly staring wide-eyed over my shoulder, taking it all in), just a couple of cities away. That was the first mock-issue. Neither one of us has a licence and we're not really the kind to get one. I, for one, don't like cars, I was hit by one and nearly run over when I was just a teenager and I don't know about Quentin but he doesn't look like he cares to get one. So we found the schedules of the trains and buses that ran from our city to the ones we had to be at. Public transports aren't so bad, mostly when there are no jams.

The first visit was interesting, we mostly sat about and interacted with a few of the kittens the breeders had out at that point. They were little balls of energy, running about left and right. It provided good amusement. We filled out some paperwork, they told us it would be a couple of weeks more before the ones we were interested in could be gotten and that did give us time to at least begin to set up the house so it would be safer for the cats (and for us!).

On the way back we stopped at the store, got the litter-box we knew we'd need, got a pouch of the food the breeders told us they were feeding the cats. Something grain free, anything else was very poorly digested and could cause irreparable damage to the cat's digestive tract. Got a fair few toys, more than we both knew we'd need but it was hard to refrain, some catnip, two scratching cat beds and a cat tower. The room we currently dub the 'cat' room wasn't quite completed at that point but it was mostly ready. 

Access to the other rooms were seen to as necessary. The access to the in-the-works pool room was closed utterly, we set up a door at the base of the stairs leading to the second floor since we didn't know how they'd act around growing plants and the such, we didn't want them to eat something and get sick. The rest was mostly just straightened out.

  


The two weeks worth of wait seemed like it took so much longer than that but I guess it was that whole 'waiting' thing. We were so excited to have new lives come into our worlds that it was hard to be patient. That and it was just one of those first things we'd really worked absolutely together and had decided on together. It was a life-changing event (for that part of our lives anyway) and we were looking forward to it.

Our trip on the train, then bus, back to the breeder's house was a quiet one. We were both a little on edge about how we were going to go about things. We had one semi-big carrier to carry the cats back home with us. We'd thought about getting two small ones but we didn't. These kittens were born of the same mother, had spent time together and hadn't really been apart, that we knew, at that point, so we saw no need. They were still slight enough that they would fit just fine in the carrier and it wouldn't be too heavy to carry. We didn't have long to walk but that too was taken into consideration.

The breeders welcomed us with bright smiles and open arms, we played a little with the kittens, gathered the paperwork, the extra gift-bag they gave us with more toys, a couple blankets, a trial bag of food and whatnot, and we were off with our two bundles of energy to head back to the bus, then the train ride.

  


Once home, we made sure the doors were all closed, the windows just the same and that the safe area was what it was and we headed off to the cat room. That was where we'd set up their litter-box since we figured putting everything in the same area was the best idea. We set the carrier down in that room, opened its door and just waited. We weren't sure how they would react, how well they'd take to their new environments, the new smells, the new everything.

It took about five minutes before they were easing out, taking note of their new surroundings and they bounded off. We'd put a bit of catnip on the cat tree and some on the beds to entice them towards those and I don't think it would have been much necessary. These kittens had more energy to spare than we had first imagined and they were as curious as could be. Thankfully we currently, at least in that room, had nothing for them to get in trouble with.

There was plenty they could climb but nothing that would tip over with them if they tumbled. Plenty of toys to play with, food fresh twice a day and clear water from a little fountain thing we bought just for them. We were somewhat afraid for our curtains but they didn't show much interest in those once they discovered they could leave their own personal room. They played hide and seek for hours, climbing left and right. 

We both lost track of them for a while but we knew that everything was closed up secure and they couldn't head outside so it wasn't much a worry. After a few hours they popped back up and that really was that. We might have been worried parents but unless they went 'missing' for more than a few hours we weren't going to start to fret and fuss when we knew the house itself was as safe as it could be at that point.

They really were like wild cats however, wild little children who had more energy to spare than most. They played so much, had little naps, played some more. They'd eat, drink and settle again. I think they're a good addition to our family and I know Quentin would say much the same thing.

To think of it as a family though, that warms me in ways I didn't think possible. Though maybe not as much as when I think back about his lips on mine but that's aside the point. I blush and feel so warm when I think back about that, that I don't know what to do with myself. When I get all flustered around him, he just grins like a cat-got-the-canary and it almost makes me worry for my mock-sanity, when he grins like that. It's like he gets these ideas that he won't share and he just, I don't know what he plans and while I'm excited at the idea that things might indeed be developing past the point of friendship, I don't know what to make of it all.

It's what I wanted but what if we fail, what if we don't make it work out? I guess I can't worry about every little thing, though I may feel the need to. One day after the other. Right now, these kittens require attention from us both.


	19. Driving North

I was actually born and raised in Beauvais. When I was twelve, I hitch-hiked my way up to Dunkerque. This is just one of those small things I haven't told Quentin about. I'm not sure why. He seems to hold in such high respect that we were both born here, he seems to believe that it makes us even more special, even more connected, I'm afraid of the reaction he might have if I was to tell him I was born in Beauvais.

At least I assume that's where I was born. I could have been born here and my parents on a trip down south could have dropped me off in Beauvais where I spent my childhood and early years in the orphanage before I ran off, not wanting to deal with the nuns anymore and landed in the streets of Dunkerque. I had no roof, I had no real meal on a daily basis, at first I thought it'd been the worst decision I'd ever made, but eventually things slowly started to turn around. 

It's colder up here than it was down in Beauvais so my first winter was one of the worst ones I'd ever survived through. The following winter, I'd begged my way into enough money to buy a thick winter coat and several blankets. I was a bit better off. Not a whole lot but it was better than not being better off at all.

When I turned fifteen, someone seemed to believe I was trustworthy enough to let me have a job. It was crap as I was literally picking up after everyone else, just wandering the streets and cleaning up whatever I was finding but I wasn't forced to any kind of schedule and I kind of started when I got in and finished when it was too late to really keep going. No matter how long I had worked, the pay was the same so I figured out before too long that it was easier to do a set number of ours that felt almost worth the money and just appreciate that money the rest of the time.

Sure I saved it all up. I only used up a little on food as I've never needed as much as most humans do, though now I realize I don't need much less. Quentin has been feeding me fair portions and I've gained a bit of weight, which is a blessing, I was skinny. I still am. Chasing crazy Bengal kittens around the household when they're feeling playful is good exercise!

When I was eighteen, I'd found a place I could almost call my own, it was a quiet spot under a bridge. Most folks tended to avoid it so I wasn't often bothered. There was a little nook in there that kept out the worst of the wind and the rain so I was almost cozy, as cozy as anyone can be when they don't have a real roof over their heads.

At that age, I'd also started up in the 'art' business. I'd gotten my hands on a few cans of spray paint and I'd tagged a few different buildings. Old places that no one inhabited anymore, at least. I wasn't really feeling destructive, I just wanted something out there in the world that screamed 'I'm here, if you find my corpse somewhere, I was still here, I was alive!' or something. I guess I didn't want to go out not having known anyone in any way. 

Sure I talked to the other homeless folks but it wasn't quite the same as having someone to really know who you are, though I'm aware now that no one would really have known who I'd been just from looking at these scribbles. Quentin found them though, it brought him to me.. or me to him in one way or another and I guess I see that as a bit of a blessing.

I think that soon I'll be telling him about Beauvais. I don't really want to hide anything from him, it wouldn't be beneficial to us. It might hurt him that I didn't tell him the truth straight off but you can't really blame me for that. I mean, he didn't tell me where he was off to on that month-long time away he took. Not out of choice but still, he didn't trust me enough to tell me where he was headed off to and I didn't trust him quite enough to really tell him the absolute truth about myself.

That I recall, in any way.

  


At times I do wonder and I think. I ponder. What would Beauvais be like at this point? I haven't been there in ten years, I bet things change in some ways. Ten years, I can't help but find it a little amusing. In some way, both Quentin and me, we've been gone from where we were raised for a decade. Though I think a bit more and I have to remind myself that it's been just a little, tiny bit longer than ten years. Not that it changes much in the long run but it's just been that long, it's a good thought to have.

I have a new life now, it's filled with a lot of ups, a few downs, a lot of exercise, art and peace. My heart still is securely wrapped in strings that tighten a little every day, every time he sees fit to doing something that's just absolutely sweet for me. Not that I ask him for anything, he just seems to be that way naturally, towards me in any case.

I've seen and heard him lose his tempers where others are concerned, when he thinks I'm not around. Though really, these idiots deserved him going off on them like that, I still feel half bad for them but I feel absolutely blessed that he doesn't seem to see a need to be that way with me. It's like I'm one tiny step above everyone else in that regard and it feels good.

Oof, there goes that string tightening a tiny bit again. I can live with that. It means I'm absolutely head over heels for him and I know he has to be aware of something. I mean, we kissed. It was an absolutely unexpected thing but it still happened and he did kiss me back so he has to be aware of my feelings to an extent and it's good enough for now. I can't ask more from him and I won't. Let him figure things out at his own pace. There's no need to rush at all.


	20. China

Yael has somehow managed to convince me that the television wasn't all bad. We have now of these 'build your channel collection' thing going on, I'm not sure how it's really called. Yael says there's this list with all the channels and we have some basic ones plus about fifteen or so select ones that we added to our list for a fixed price. I didn't have much of a say on what we were getting, I don't know anything about that kind of thing but Yael knows what I like and what I don't and so far what he's picked for channels is fitting.

What little time I spend here, usually with either Areli or Lavi on my shoulder. Those are the names we gave our two growing cats, I call them our growing boys most of the time because they are. It's not that I think of them as intelligent beings, humans or demon alike, but they have their own smarts, for being cats, and that counts for me. They've made our lives brighter, so much, recently.

  


One of the channels I watch is something of a documentary channel, it's one of Yael's favourites, we essentially travel to different places in the world while we stay here in our living room. We've been to places like Ireland and Canada, New Zealand and China. Today we visited some pandas. We still are, they're huge on this screen and at times I feel like I could reach out and touch them, they feel so real.

I admit that not all of these places we've seen on the screen are places I want to eventually visit in what I know will be a very long life. China though has been added to that slowly growing list. I don't know when we'll go or why, or how really. I don't much like the idea of flying though I've never been near a plane before in my life so it really shouldn't have much of a sway on me. But there's Areli and Lavi to think about. Where would we leave them to? Would we take them with us? If we were to visit places and rent houses to stay in, perhaps, but not otherwise. These cats get everywhere. I don't think they have a run-away streak but I wouldn't really want to chance it.

For now though, I admit I'm more than pleased with being able to watch these places be explored from the comfort of my home. The sights are breathtaking most of the time though, the ones of the true wilderness, that place that's hard to find here anymore. The jungles, the caves, the rivers. Sure we have rivers and probably some caves somewhere on the edge of water, but they're hardly part of any ongoing bit of wilderness.

The world as it is, it feels too cultivated, too many people and building and technology. I'm not saying I'd love to live in the time of cavemen but at times I feel like I was born in the wrong century. Then again, there's no telling if I ever would have met Yael if our lives had been any more different than they are now so I'm grateful for that, in any case, I can't complain. He's good company and I know there's more than just company under the surface but I'm not sure I'm ready to face that part just yet.

I mean sure, we did kiss and it was a startling sort of thing, it was so new but it felt wonderful and warm and something fluttered in my stomach but I don't know what would come with that kind of thing if we were to move ahead, move forward. A small part of me wanted to sweep him off his feet and do things… but I'm not even sure what these things are supposed to be. Instinct is stronger and knows more than I do at this point, not too surprisingly but I'm not ready to let it take over just yet.

So I appreciate those little nights where we just sit shoulder to shoulder, warmth being shared a little this way, the boys not far from us or just running about like they tend to do when they have an over-abundance of energy that I hardly mind, and we watch something on the television. Despite the choice of channels we have, I admit we've rarely switched to anything other than this discovery-like channel, it fits us.

At times though, we'll have some of our music channels up and playing. Usually it'll be soft music, I think it's classical or baroque or something like that. Yael says it helps him to 'art it out' when he's in the mood and it's just relaxing for me when I get a little bit of work done. Not that I really need to but that's aside the point, really. Our lives feel very peaceful right now and I'm thankful.

  


Still, I do have myself that little trip-list wish list. It's not really a bucket list though I've pondered the idea of writing one out. I know I'm not about to die any time soon, unless someone really runs me over and mangles me to the point where my body can't heal itself, or you know, slices my head off as I don't think I'd manage to heal from that. Sicknesses I've healed from though it usually takes some time but I don't see that anything but old age will ever get to me and I'm hoping the same goes for Yael. I don't know that my life would be comfortable if he wasn't in it the way he is now.

Over time, I know things will change, we'll grow a stronger bond and we might even move on to doing more than just sitting side by side but that's for later in our lives, we're not about to rush into these things, I don't see why we would. One of these days, we'll travel too. Maybe after Areli and Lavi have had a really long and fulfilling lives with us, that is, when they'll pass to the other side. I know cats aren't immortal, after all.

Once it'll be just Yael and me again, then we might take up traveling a bit. The plants on the second and third floor have an automatic watering system and so long as we continue to pay the bills there shouldn't be any issues with that, I'm not too worried. That or we go one place for a while, come home for a couple of weeks, go out again. I guess it'll mostly depend on how things are by then, one day after the other. Though this list is getting pinned up to the cork-board I have hung up in my room with photos of this and that, with ideas and places and a map all marked with places I think could be interesting to visit. 

Hell, first stop might even be China to see pandas if there are any left by then.


	21. it's time to __________

Our fine felines somehow managed to get into the first area of the garden. Some parts are closed off from the others as they're not kept in the same temperature but still, they got in there, they played around in the dirt and while we were both aware they could mostly clean themselves up, they were filthy and we figured it was time for them to have their first bath.

Yael is laughing his ass off in his room right now. He wasn't when we found these two trailing dirt down the steps from the second floor back to the first. He'd been terrified that they'd dug up flowers from his garden but they somehow got into the first area only and it's the food area. It's where he's set up seeds to grow veggies and some fruits or what have you, I'm not sure. Nothing had started growing yet but with the mess they made, I'm not sure that anything will grow until he gets some seeds to the resettled ground again.

But he's laughing, oh he's laughing hard and I can't blame him, I would be laughing too if I wasn't too busy cleaning up the water mess they left in the bathroom. We don't really have any area where we could have bathed them other than in the master bathroom. Now here's the deal. From what Yael had told me, I had expected these two to fuss and flail and make bathing really difficult. Nope, not one moment, I had issues getting them out of the water and it's the motion of getting them out (several times!) that got all the water on the floor.

They'd kept on jumping back in once I got them out. I should have just drained the tub once I was done. I don't know why I didn't think of that but obviously I didn't, now the floor is more than a little wet and Yael is laughing his ass off at the situation and he's not about to help. I suppose I deserved that anyway, he has his work cut out for him in rebuilding the food-area garden and we have to try and find out where these little rascals managed to find their way in. 

We assume it was just a forgotten door but it was closed when we checked, though that was just the bottom part. The door is a two part type, where you can open the top or bottom separately. The bottom half was locked but the top wasn't, it swings a bit on its hinges so maybe, just maybe they jumped up that way. Not something we expected.

  


I'd like to think we're good owners, we didn't punish them for what they did. It was done, what good would it have done? If we'd caught them in the act, then maybe a spritz of water as we told them no would have sufficed but we won't know until next time while hoping there isn't a next time. Yael is rather serious about growing fruits and vegetables for us to have on hand. I don't blame him, it sounds like a pretty sweet and wonderful idea. 

At times I look at the stuff we buy from the stuff and I can't help but wonder. These fruits are from such and such place.. can't they be grown here? Why not? Wouldn't it be cheaper to do that? Not that I'm cheap or that I can't afford it but I can't help but wonder. This whole trying to have a city that's self-sufficient in some way, it seems it would be the best idea if we could grow just about all of our food. I'm aware we don't really have the climate for some of these things, these fruits and vegetables, but it has to be a minority of things, right? 

I guess it doesn't matter much, if we manage to grow fruits and veggies, all the better for us, really. Yes, I'm a greedy little bastard if I can be.

  


Areli and Lavi have now been dried to the best of my ability (they wouldn't really sit still but I didn't want them soaking wet and living puddles everywhere!) and they've wandered off to I don't know where. My floor is spotless, dry, once again to the best of my ability and I can't help but feel rather proud of myself. Though as a side note I now remind myself that if I want a bath, I'll have to close the door unless I want uninvited guests. I mean, I take baths to relax, to have these two in there with me paddling about wouldn't exactly be what I'd call relaxing, but that might just be me.

Thinking about that now, I guess they might just appreciate the pool once it'll be set up. Of course we'll keep it locked while we're not in there, it wouldn't do if they go in the water without supervision. That sets the decision of it being a salt pool though instead of chlorine. I don't think I can really get it set up any other way, if there are, I'll just look them up. I want this house to be the safest environment possible for all its occupants. If that means getting somehow the pool filters to work with something other than salt or chlorine, all the better.

  


I can't hear Yael anymore though it's been a while since the wet-floor thing. I suppose he might have gone back up to the garden to see if anything can be salvaged as far as any of the seeds he'd sown. I don't think there'll be much to do with the mess they made of things but we still had a lot of seeds to set to the earth and as a surprise for him I did order several little seedlings of different varieties for him. A few sweet peppers, some cucumbers, tomatoes, I can't remember all of it but I know I got a bit of everything he'd mentioned as far as the starter seeds were concerned.

I figured it might not hurt to have seedlings to help things along a little and now that our two loving monsters have more or less destroyed all of his hard work, they'll do good. I know he's not mad at them and I'm not either. They're just cat, they're playful and curious by nature. If they get in trouble, they do but we do our best to teach them that it's just best to not have that kind of behaviour. We can't really do anything differently.

Now if they were human beings, that might just be really different and they'd be easier to teach (or so I tell myself but I don't really believe it) and they'd learn that there are some things that shouldn't be done, but they're not human, they don't really have a clear definition of right or wrong so I can live with being soaked to the bone every few months (or once a year, really, that'll be enough) when they get in places where they shouldn't be.

Now I'm not sure if I want to have a shower myself to wash up or not. I'm not dirty, just still a bit wet and mostly tired. I think I'll just flop down on my bed and get some rest before anything else.


	22. Don't Laugh

I don't know why he thought I might laugh when he told me he didn't know how it worked. It hurts a little to think he might not trust me enough to not react like a child when I'm told something that's on a sensitive subject and laugh in his face. I can't really fault him for it, his human interaction skills are still really poor but still, it stings a bit to be thought of as someone who'd laugh when told this kind of thing.

  


He approached me this morning, looking uncomfortable and uncertain, fussing and huffing lightly and told me, in the most serious tone I figure he could manage, that I was not allowed to laugh at what he would next tell me. Of course, I only blinked at him, stared a bit and promised him I wouldn't laugh. I wasn't that kind of person, I wasn't cruel enough to laugh at someone else's misfortune unless they were laughing about it too, then it was different. I'd be doing so with them and not at them.

So he dropped onto my bed, something he's never really done, he was pretty much boneless (for the most part anyway!) and he stared at my ceiling for so long I thought he wouldn't really say anything at all in the long run so I went back to the bit of sketching I'd been doing. He was on my paper as is, so it's not like I wasn't paying attention.

After a few more minutes of slightly uncomfortable silence, he finally heaved a sigh, sat back up and shrugged. He was trying to gather his courage from what I could see of him from the corner of my eye and I guess my not staring at him helped somewhat. "I don't know how to take care of it!"

'It'. That was vague as could be and I blinked at him, canting my head slightly. My sketchbook was set down, closed of course, on the desk behind me and I turned back to him with the gentlest of smiles I could manage. "'It' is a bit vague, Quentin. I promised I wouldn't laugh, so you might want to try to be a bit clearer? I can't really help if I don't know what you're talking about and you know I help you best as I can whenever you need it."

He huffed softly and I swear I could see the start of a blush on his cheeks. He fussed and shifted on my bed, running a hand through his hair before he was taking in another deep breath and closing his eyes. "I woke up this morning and it was up at attention, you know, that there," and he did motion to his lap, "and I don't know, didn't know how to deal with it so I just ignored it until it went away."

Of course I was a little hurt that he had thought I would laugh at him for now knowing how to take care of that kind of thing but I let it be and I shook my head. If that was a first for him, I admit I was a little surprised but not all of us 'blossomed' at the same time. I'd been an early kind of kid but I'd also had a lot of fodder to work with so when it did first happen after a particularly surprising dream, I'd just winged it, did what felt best and hadn't really thought much about it then.

"I would never laugh at something like that, Quentin. It's a natural body reaction you've had, most likely following an interesting enough dream. There's no shame to not knowing what to do though, we all have to start somewhere." So I did tell him some basic information. I don't know how I managed to keep myself from blushing though halfway through the explanations I did have to snag my sketchbook to hold it to my waist. That one was all natural and it would be seen to before too long.

He was blushing though, prettily. All red. Around his ears, down his neck. His eyes were wide and surprised and I did laugh gently, just once, telling him about how red he was and he pouted at me, pouted! That just added fuel to the slow burning fire in me but the sketchbook wasn't budging.

In the end, I told him about things he might need in case, because rug burn is just a terrible sort of thing to deal with and he went back off to his room. I doubt he was off to experiment but at least he'd have some idea as to what he was supposed to do next time it happened.

I just hoped I'd given him the kind of information he found useful. At times I don't know what he's thinking, what goes through his mind. It's like he trusts me too much and I could lead him on a wild goose chase and I think he'd trust me with his eyes shut. I'm not sure how I feel about being trusted this much. It's wonderful but also it's frightening as hell, what if I lead him wrong?

It's not like I can ask him to let me watch next time it happens so I can be sure I only told him things he had use for, that's just be crass and it's not the kind of thing that gets done as is. It's not because we kissed—once!—that I have a right over him in any way. He's like an innocent child in so many ways that I'm just doing my best to be patient, to not rush anything. If anything comes out of this strange relationship we have, it'll be coming from him first. He has to initiate things.

  


The sketchbook on my lap though, it's not doing me a whole lot of good and I think a shower might be in order. This is one of those rules we have that the bathrooms are off limits when the other is using it so at least I have that working in my favour. I mean we both have our own in our bedrooms but if he was in any way curious he very well could just waltz in and disturbs me while I'm dealing with this thing.

I think I'm going to snag this new extra I bought from the adult store to give it a go. I mean I have a small chest with several different pieces, most of them I haven't tried just yet and I'm curious as to the kind of experience I'll have with them but I have to keep in mind that sound does travel well enough around our apartment and while I'm not the loudest person around, I'm pretty sure that if I hit the right buttons, I might get to be. So what's safest, really, is to take the slightest of toys, or the ones I know how I'll react to. The rest I can explore when he's out and about doing his bit of wandering in the city.

I have a whole lifetime ahead of me to discover some things and whatnot, so I'm not in a rush for that. Though I am beginning to feel a bit in a rush to deal with this so I think I'm just going to close my bedroom door, dig around in the small chest I have under my bed, find something nice and waterproof and take that shower, it'll do me good.


	23. Rosemary

Rosemary turned out to be one of the first thing that grew and flowered in the garden. It is lovely, absolutely but I personally can't stand the taste of it in my food. I'm not even sure where it comes from, I don't recall the first time I ate any but I just recall not liking the taste. I suppose if Yael were to prepare something with it I might be willing to give it another try but for now, I'd rather just keep as far away from it as possible. 

I'm not usually picky with my food, really, this just happens to be one of these things. That and you know, chocolate. That was a disaster in itself and it is best not to be repeated. I've recently made a list of things to avoid. I'm starting to wonder at my sanity. I have a list of places I want to visit, a list of places we have to avoid at all costs and now I have a list of things to avoid. So far at least that one is pretty short, unlike my list of places to visit. Chocolate, human-made medication (natural stuff goes down a little better with a lot less side effects!) and rosemary.

I didn't even eat that whole piece of chocolate last time. I had two squares of it. I like sweet stuff but even that was over-sweet for me and before too long I vaguely recall that I was taking off my clothes and nearly bouncing off the wall with extra energy. Though I suppose I could think of it this way, if I have to take human medication, I could take chocolate and see if it counters the effects. One puts me right the hell to sleep and the other has me bouncing off the walls, you'd think they might do well together. I'm not that crazy though.

  


I don't know if it's the greenhouse set up or part of his gift as a demon—I still don't know what kind he is and I'm not about to ask—but the plants are growing up pretty quickly up there in the garden. They're safer now that we found out where the cats had gotten in. We set up another door, one of those with the screens on it so they can see but they can't go into the room. That way, and it is much the way Yael seems to like it, he can leave the upper part of the wooden door open and the scent of the garden can fill the first floor of the house. I don't mind, so far there isn't much but an earthy scent that's rather comforting and a bit of underlying sweetness, I guess those might be the flowers.

Lately, he looks so pleased with himself and with the garden that I can't help but feel good about the decision that was made to let him have the second floor all to himself. It's wonderful to know I might not be completely an idiot when it comes to spending time around other folks and helping them along with their dreams. I know I'm antisocial but Yael brings out something in me. It doesn't make me want to be social with others but it makes me more patient, I guess. I haven't snapped angrily at anyone in some time.

  


Areli and Lavi have behaved since their last bath, though I've had to keep the bathroom door closed when I ponder taking baths myself. I don't do so often but when I do I would rather do so on my own and without any company. I'm more tuned to the idea of showers and they're more common too, now that Yael told me about, well, how to take care of some issues I've woken up with lately. I'm still not sure what causes them though I'd have to assume that it's the dreams I have. I don't usually remember them but I do recall feeling pretty good when I wake up from them, that one issue aside. Though it feels good too when I take care of it so I shouldn't really complain.

It's just so new, so different. I mean, I was aware that humans and animals and just about everything out there on this planet, makes use of whatever it is they were born with, to reproduce, I just didn't know it would feel good to touch it this way.

Yael has teased me some about how he might see about adding an adult channel or two to our television setup so I might have an idea of what it's like out there, though he's told me that most everything that happens on adult channels is scripted and far from the truth. That I shouldn't base any of what I believe in on what I see on those channels if we were to add them in. I don't think we will, I don't really see the point. I'm rather fine with taking care of things the way I do now and I know Yael seems more than willing to teach me about these things.

  


The pool is just about finished, we found a cleaning and filtering system that should be no harm to the cats should they ever jump in to join us. There's a small side pool, what they refer to as a 'kiddy' pool, it has near to no depth to it but for these two crazy cats, it might prove to be plenty if they do want some time in the water.

The bigger pool though, I think it's going to be something to learn to swim, I know I don't know how and I don't think Yael does either. At this point, I'm aware that it makes no sense to want a pool when neither occupant of the house know how to swim but I'm willing to bet that it's not too hard to learn how to and I just want to, no one can fault me for wanting to add more to my skills. Plus, set up a floater on there and just relax with a bit of music in the background and all. One of the side wall is all windows, tinted the way the garden windows are. We see outside they can't see inside. The decor will be a bit beach-like with small palms—I'm not sure if they'll be real or fake just yet—and a few slight plants here and there that won't be of any danger for the boys. We don't want them getting sick from touching or eating something they shouldn't in the end.

It has a slow slope, the pool. I've seen some designs where you had some steps heading in, then a distance at a certain height, then a semi-steep slope-drop but I prefer it the way it's set up now. It's a slow slope all the way to the end. It's not too deep but deep enough. At one point, I had a dream about black water, water that wouldn't stain, a water that would heal those like me but I don't know where the idea came from. I'm pretty sure that wouldn't be possible and I don't know that it would work anyway.

Some of the things that go through my mind, I swear.


	24. Something New

The pool has been completed, finished and filled as of a week now and it has seen no occupants. It is such a new sort of thing into their lives that neither one of them knows for certain if they want to be first to take a dip into this beautiful oasis of peace and serenity. The water is clear and warm, the bottom made to look as it would out in the real world, sand-like though there is not a single particle of the stuff in there.

It is on a night of Monday drifting to Tuesday that Yael approaches the seemingly endless sea of water, it looks huge to his eyes, bottomless despite that he knows better. He breathes a soft sigh, closes his eyes for a few moment and makes sure the door is closed for the time being. He's aware that both Areli and Lavi are better swimmer than him, they've proven that much in the bath they had to go through just a couple of weeks back, though maybe it was closer to a month. Keeping track of time is not something he really does.

At first, instead of changing out of his clothes into his bathing suit as he isn't sure he was going to swim or not so he merely brought it with him—that and a towel—he starts walking around the pool, almost to study it. Eyes of the palest of blues they almost looked like ice taking in the details. The slow dipping slope of the ground, like a real body of water. He can't hear any motors and recalls that Quentin had mentioned something about how he'd been promised the motors would be quiet as could be. This was good.

His lips curl into a slight sort of smile, a slow pull upwards at the corner as he kneels by the deep end and lets his fingers dip into the warm water. The day had been sticky, sleep had been difficult, even with his fan on and this kind of warmth would be a nice change. It wasn't too hot or too cold, just right. He takes another deep breath as he moves back to his feet and continues his walk around the pool. The edges are round, the pools he's seen before out there in the world and on television had always had square corners, this is different.

Before too long, he is back to the shallow end and, taking a long look around the room, he nods to himself and pulls his shirt off. Then his shorts follow suit before he pulls the swimming trunks on. He knows he could have had a swim naked but it seems a little too quick. What if Quentin walks in on him swimming naked, his pale, bare bottom showing to the world? Not yet.

He takes a moment to braid his hair in a quick mess that is rolled into a bun and pinned with a single stick. It looks like a crayon, has its shape and size but it is decorative, his best method to keep his hair out of his face and off the nape of his neck when the temperature outside is too hot and sticky. He smiles to himself once more and finally moves forward, towards the pool and lets his toes touch the water.

This isn't so bad. It isn't bad at all and before he even realizes what he is doing, he is moving forward, slowly easing down the slow, careful slope so he is up to his waist in the just-warm-enough water. He marvels at the sensation and laughs softly, startling himself. This is so absolutely new. He closes his eyes and lets his senses take in everything that surrounds him. How the water feels brushing over him, the slight current from somewhere in the pool, the soft, sand-like texture of the ground beneath his feet though it is all packed together, of course.

He finds an innocent sort of pleasure fill him from his surroundings and the sensations, he moves back up slightly, just enough so that he can sit down, have the water be up to about his shoulders and he settles there. He doesn't have to swim just yet, he doesn't feel like it but he is in the water and he closes his eyes again, relaxes and lets himself be.

  


It's easy to lose track of time when relaxing in a new, peaceful environment and what pulls Yael from his deeply relaxed state, almost an hour later, is the sound of the door carefully sliding opened and closed once more. He turns his head and smiles at Quentin, offering a sweet, pleased sort of smile. This is a good sort of life and the addition of the pool is wonderful, that's all he can really focus on at this point.

"I thought I'd finally give this a try, I mean, it's been done for a week and we haven't even approached it. It's not even that we've been busy, we've just been avoiding it." Yael grins slightly and yawns, moving back to his feet before he walks to the side and pulls himself up to sit on the edge. The room is almost the same temperature as the water itself so he doesn't feel any chills as he does so.

He turns his gaze back to his housemate, his companion, friend and, in time he tells himself, maybe more. "The water is really nice and you just walk in and it's like the peace of it all swallows you whole, it's wonderful."

Quentin watches him for a moment, taking in those words before he nods and yawns slightly. He still has a tendency for getting up later than Yael does so it is likely the young man still is waking up. "I was looking for you, was wondering where you went off to and since I didn't find any notes and the garden was undisturbed, I thought I might look in here and see if you'd come this way. I don't have my bathing suit though."

"Well it's not like we need one, I just put mine on because I figured you might not want to see me naked just yet though I admit I've seen you bared though I never stared. You can have my towel too if you want. We should set a few up here in case, along with the bathing suits might just be easier." It does make sense, when he takes a moment to think about it.

Yael turns his gaze away from his friend and companion as Quentin starts to undress. First his shirt, then his pants and Yael has to wonder ever quietly to himself how he can handle that kind of heat. The thought of wearing pants with the sticky weather they've been having doesn't even brush his mind. Then again, he recalls that the weaver demon was raised in a land and world of snow where being covered up was safer. It makes sense.

He only shifts his eyes back to the other when he hears the sound of steps slipping into the water and he can't help but let his gaze sweep slowly over the other. As he does, he feels a warm blush rise to his cheeks and he stares away again, willing the heat to leave him so he can be near or about his friend without either one of them feeling embarrassed, though he hardly can help it.

Every day, there is something new in their lives and he learns to adapt to it.


	25. Pyramid

He's been at it for some hours now, slowly, carefully placing one card, then the next. I don't know where he picked it up but all I can do is sit back and stare, oh, and keep Areli and Lavi out of the way. They flung it all to the floor last time though he hadn't made much progress. It miffed him but I couldn't help the slight snicker and while he shot me a reproachful look, he still ended up smiling at me after a few moments.

I guess this is his project for the day and I admit it is rather a massive undertaking. It's something to witness though. I don't know how many decks of card he has on hand and I assume he bought those when he last went out because I'm pretty sure we haven't had any cards in the house until today. We don't play cards, now though, he's building something and it's big. He's breathing slow and careful, his movements just the same.

At first he started his little project in the living room but he realized it was far from quiet enough so he took his cards into his room but he was out of there after five minutes. I assume not enough flat surface. Now he's in one of the last unfurnished rooms of the first floor, near the back. It's against two walls of windows and the view from there is just breath-taking. The door is closed but it's one of those sliding glass doors since I think he was hoping to make this room into something of a sunroom.

I can hear him talking to himself just quietly, concentrating on what he's doing. It's half his height now and I leave him be for the time being. I'll let him decide on when he wants to show me his pyramid-building skills. Most likely when he's done. With that door closed and the lack of anything in that room, I'm sure that beyond his sneezing it all down, it will be fine and he'll finish up his masterpiece. Not sure what he'll do when he is done though. That's for later.

  


I thought about taking the boys out for a walk since Quentin is busy but I'm not sure if it would be a good idea or not. It's honestly wet outside and while I know these cats wouldn't mind, they'd leave tracks inside once we'd be back. Yes, I do take these cats out on walks, I leash them up with a harness and they love discovering the land that surrounds them. I usually keep them to the oversized yard we have, most of it is badly overgrown and I know I'll need to do something about it. 

Probably call someone to help clear it up to a point. Leave the trees, those are fine where they are but there are weeds and stuff growing, some of it taller than I am and I know it's probably dangerous to have the cats wander through there so I don't. I'd like for them to have a play area outside, closed up from all sides but it would be theirs and they could discover what it's like to be outside whenever they want. We could set up one of those swinging pet doors or something through one of the windows.

  


I'm not sure what to do with myself. It's just pure and simple boredom but it's raining outside and while I usually love being out there, today just doesn't feel like a rain day. I don't much feel like drawing. It seems to be one of these days. I could go and have a swim but the thought along brings heat to my cheeks. I can't help but remember how he looked, absolutely bared to my eyes though I did my best not to stare, it was hard.

He went into the deeper end a bit faster than he expected and he sputtered. I panicked and I went after him. I suppose I might float better than him because he latched on to me, pressed up close and personal and somehow I managed to get us both back where we had footing. There is a slight flat area to the pool, it's not too large but it's there, just in the middle of the slope, with water about to my shoulders, nearly, a little lower.

  


I hear him scream in frustration and I head back towards the back room to check in on him. Half of his construction is on the ground. I guess that's what we call a false move. Still, all he's doing now is breathing. His eyes are closed and he's drawing in air, holding it and letting it out slowly. Calming himself down. He's not the type to give up on a project, even if it frustrates him though the end results tends to not be as nice as it could be when he gets to that point. 

I just watch him a while, until he starts back on his masterpiece and I slip away as quietly as I've come. He doesn't need me there and I might just prove to be a distraction more than anything else. Maybe I should bring out that painting I've started of him. It came to me one night while I was just on the edge of waking up. I don't know why it runs so true but it does to me and I like the look of him in what I've drawn so far.

It's like an olden time sort of time, the materials wrapped about him, the way he holds himself. It makes me think of those old portraits of royalty you see in museums. There's his tail, lazing behind him, its tip just there, taunting. A few bits of jewellery on him because it felt the right thing to add. His hair is just a little longer than it is now, his skin is just as flawless as he is now and he's just perfect in my eyes.

I haven't actually started painting it, it's all just a big faint sketch on the canvas but it's there and I mostly work on it when he's not about to see it. I want it to be a surprise for him and I'm not sure why. It's just one of those gut feelings. So I mostly paint after I wake up and before he does. So maybe I'll skip out on that and just try to sketch. I really don't feel like it but I don't know what else to do with myself. I'm not tired, I'm not energized, I just feel bleh and I don't know what to do with myself.

So I do flop down on my bed with my sketchbook and before long I have myself two leg warmers just settled against me and I know I can almost feel at peace, almost feel good enough to stop feeling as bleh as I have. It must be the weather, or something I ate, or something something. I don't know.

  


It's a few hours later before I can hear him stepping back into the main area of our home, he's bright-eyed and almost bouncy as he appears in my doorway and beckons me without even having to talk to me. I can't help but feel like he could tell me to jump off a bridge and I somehow would do it. I guess I do have it pretty bad for him. It might be a bit unhealthy, honestly.

He walks me back towards the back room and he stops by the door. He doesn't open it and I don't blame him, the cats are with us and the masterpiece he's done is majestic.

"I have no idea what prompted you to want to build that up but that is massive and just, wow, Quentin, it's beautiful." As beautiful as a pyramid made out of playing cards can be but it is, in the way I look at it. He looks pleased as can be, cheeks pink from the compliment and he shrugs. 

I might never know what did pull him towards wanting to build that but, for the time being, it seems as though it's staying where it is, the door close and locked until he decides he's had enough of looking at it or until he decides on what he's finally doing with this room. We're in no rush, after all and life still goes on even if we don't use all the rooms in our home.


	26. __________ at night

His offer for a walk came to me as somewhat unexpected. I'm not saying it was a bad thing, it isn't, it was just really unexpected, absolutely surprising. Not that there is anything surprising about going on a walk with him but we haven't really done anything 'together' since we've come back from our trip to the country. Sure, we swam together, we eat together, we watch television together but this is different, this is walking quietly side by side, enjoying the quietness and appreciating the air.

So I did accept, what was I supposed to do, say no and skulk back to my room? That wouldn't really have achieved anything. That and I guess he wanted some fresh air after the time he spent on that card-built pyramid that still is standing in the back, unused room with its closed and locked door.

  


The moon is bright as can be in the otherwise ever dark sky. There are a few clouds about but I can spot several different constellations. When I was younger, I would look up to the sky and try to find constellations. I knew a bit about them because one of the older kids in the orphanage in Beauvais, before I ran off, was nuts about the sky and the moon and the rest. I admit I loved listening to him when he started talking about it all, it was the only thing that'd get his eyes all bright and clear, like his life was actually worth something.

I guess this is something I don't share easily, I guess he's why I ran off, just a few weeks before he turned eighteen, I found him in our shower area. The floors were red and he wasn't really there anymore, it was just his body. I could tell he was dead, what I didn't really understand is why he'd done it. I didn't really want to face that image anymore so I took off. That image, the poor condition of the orphanage, the poor treatment, I just couldn't take it. One of these days I'll tell Quentin about it, maybe.

His hand brushes mine and I startle out of my reverie. I blink at him and offer him a sheepish sort of smile. His eyes are questioning but I shake my head, as if to clear the rest of the cobwebs off. Now isn't the time to be thinking about the past. I sigh and murmur a quiet, "it's nothing."

It mostly is, I don't really want him to worry about me at this point. His eyes are so bright, a bit like Sterling before he died. He had such a strange name, though I suppose I'm not really one to talk, when I was about ten, I learned my name was mostly meant as a feminine name, in the end.

I just smile at him, my best, as-normal-as-I-can-muster smile and I shrug with a sheepish note. He lets it go and we finally step right and proper into the park. I haven't really been here in a long while and I can't even remember what it's like to be in this place. I've never taken a walk outside with anyone, let alone anyone my heart felt so strongly for. I feel sort of warm and the worries and thoughts I had about the past slowly ebb away. This is fine for now. I can focus on our walk.

The moon's shine on him is beautiful. It's like, with some folks, when the sun shines on them it creates a halo and it is breath-taking. With the gold of his hair and eyes, you would think that he would be quite the sight to behold out under the golden glow of the sun but I think the moon gives him a sort of ethereal look. His skin looks so pale that you could think he's glowing. He's just something gods might want within their ranks but I would never let them take him from me. I'm very selfish about that point. I will share him with mortals about but I'll never let anyone take him permanently away from me.

His hand brushes mine again and I have to blink another time. I laugh sheepishly, murmuring another quiet apology. I can't help it. At least this time I was thinking good, positive thoughts, it has to mean something, right? Not dwelling on the dark memories of my past but on the good memories of my recent life, the one I'm spending with him. Currently as friends but who knows what might happen with passing time.

  


He stops by the little bit of pond that graces the park and I shift and settle next to him, shoulder to shoulder. I just watch the moon playing on the water, reflecting off of it though I can't help but sneak glances at him. He's more interesting than the water and I can't help myself. I just love watching him. I could watch him for hours on end without ever really getting bored. Even if he was doing nothing at all.

The air around us is somewhat sticky. You would think that the nights would be slightly cooler than the days, one of the reasons why I appreciate living at night more than during the day but lately, everything just feels sticky. It's one of the reasons I was surprised at his offer to go on a walk. Still, hard to refuse him when he's looking so happy about life in general. If building a card-pyramid has made him that happy, then I'll have to take note of inviting him to do little projects every so often. It's pleasing to see him happy.

Things have changed in the months since I first moved in with him in that then lonely house. It hardly is lonely now, it's warm and inviting and welcoming. It's full of laughter and of light (though not too much light, night living has its perks!). It's full of playful teasing and taunting, full of learning experiences and of new things. I don't know that I still would be alive to this day if it wasn't for him. I think a small part of me, before he invited me to his life, had been pondering the same end Sterling had taken.

I know and I'm aware that it is a very cowardly thing to do but I was more than a little tired of living in my tiny little nook under the bridge. Of begging about to find food to eat, of looking into the eyes of passerby and seeing nothing but pity for me. It was a hard life and I'd been doing it for ten years. I'd had my share.

I don't think about that kind of thing anymore, it would be foolish to. Quentin has offered me a new beginning and I'm doing all I can to help him along that very same path. A path filled with wonderment and understanding and learning.

  


The walk home is as quiet as the walk to the park but it's peaceful, pleasant silence. I don't think, except the couple of months following his return from Siberia, that the silence between us has ever been anything but pleasant and I'm glad for that, as glad as I am to be in his life. This time, I'm the one who brushes my hand to his and I simply offer him a sweet, pleased sort of smile. He smiles back and I know that things are going well at this point in our lives. I can't complain.


	27. Many Pages

I think this is my third sketchbook of Quentin-art. I guess I don't really realize, when I really get started, just how much he inspires me, how many sketches of him I do. Most of them are quick sketches but it still is pretty easy to tell it's him, they're not just shapes but they're not cleaned up, not shaded, not coloured in. I also don't just sketch once on a single page and move onto the next, I the whole page, nearly to the edges and back. 

I don't know what I'd feel, deep down in my gut, if he were to find out these sketchbooks. I mean, I'm pretty sure he understands I do care to him to a certain point but it's that very point I know he doesn't grasp just yet and I don't want to be the one to spill everything. I want him to be able to work out the details of how he feels, then I can just open my arms wide and tell him I feel the same. It seems the safer pathway.

At this point, I have two chests under my bed and both are locked. Though one is locked with a key and the other a number code. Ironically enough, it's the art-chest that is under the key. I wouldn't be too worried if somehow he was curious enough to try and work out the number combination to find out what was in the toy-chest, the adult chest, but my art chest seems more important, more precious and it needs to be kept under closer watch until things work out for us, should they work out for us but it is looking good. One day following the other. A little more with each sunset and sunrise.

I've started working on that painting a bit more. I defined the sketch more and I set out a few colours to get myself started on this project that I know will take me a while. If it turns out to be like most of my other bigger projects where I throw my all into it and I'm never satisfied, it might never be finished but I'll try to go easier on myself. I doubt I'll manage but it's the thought that matters, I know.

  


He's laughing, out there in the living room and it's tempting to go and see what he's doing but that would keep me from working on this piece, might be for the best. I did tell myself I wouldn't work on this painting while he was in the house or awake, just in case. Alright, I guess that settles that. The canvas goes back carefully against the wall with its cover where I know it is absolutely safe and my feet lead me back out of my little studio and into the living room where he's sitting on the couch and watching—are those cartoons?

I never thought he'd be the kind to like watching cartoons like these, the funny kind. Like the Roadrunner and Bugs Bunny. I guess I learn a little more about him every day. It's nice to know he can laugh more freely now. Every day is a little bit better with our lives. I'm still the one that goes through the mail though we haven't received anything suspicious in a couple of months now. It makes me think they might have given up on their crazy idea of taking-over-the-world.

I mean honestly, what kind of bullshit is that? Folks trying to take over the world resulted in wars, in deaths and fights and decay and abandonment. The world should remain a free place as it mostly is now—in a very general sense, mind you—and that's my thought on it.

  


I lean down over the back of the couch and kiss his cheek. He startles and blushes brightly, shooting me a look that means somehow I'm in trouble, playful trouble by the quirk of his lips but trouble. I blink innocently at him, or as innocently as I might ever be able to and I laugh as I straighten. "You looked like you needed a distraction!"

That one is a lie but still. He looks at me a moment more, quirks a brow and grins at me. I'm not sure what I've just gotten myself into but I feel some heat rise into my face. "If I needed a distraction, you could at least have kissed me properly, or you know, sneaked in a grope."

"Wait, what?" That's it, this has to be one of my numerous fantasies. I must have fallen asleep or in a doze while working or sketching again. I have one sketchbook with pages filled with nothing but absolutely naughty images, it's that one sketchbook I'm most afraid of him finding it. What would he think of me, really?

I'm staring at him now, cheeks flaming and he's still grinning, snickering lightly. "Remember a couple of weeks back, you went off to that one store where, when you come back, you never show me what you bought?"

Yeah, I'm aware of what that store is, it's the store I get the toys and the lube from. "I was curious, really. After you went to sleep two days ago, I went out and had a walk. You find me more than a little confused when I walk in there but the woman behind the counter was really helpful and I got a few books after I managed to sputter out what kind of knowledge I was after. What I wanted to learn more about."

Okay, now I'm even more sure I don't really want to know where this is going but it's going there and there's no stopping the conversation. He's been to the store and he's bought a few books, he says. They don't sell just any books after all. Everything is adult themed in there and I really don't know what to think so I sort of just flop down on the couch next to him. I don't think my legs could hold me up for much longer with this conversation as it is.

"They're interesting books. One of them is called the _Kama Sutra_." Well hell. "Not that I've started in on that one, just looked at some of the art in there. One of the other book is a story book, sort of. Has short stories and all, that's the one I've been reading and there is so much to this whole sex thing I hadn't realized about."

Well, at least he's thinking it in terms of 'sex thing' and not 'relationship thing'. That makes me feel a tiny bit better, really. "What brought on the grope thing, though?"

"Oh!" and he's back to blushing ever brightly himself but there he leans in and oh, the feel of his lips against mine, I think I could melt. It's not as awkward as it could have been, it's a close-mouthed kiss but I feel something flutter warmly in me and I sigh against him, closing my eyes and I feel his lips quirk into a smile. He's pleased to himself. He doesn't pull back yet, as if he's testing things out, getting a feel for kissing me, I guess. When he does, his eyes are bright and it's easy to see that he really is pleased with himself. 

"It's just something I read in one of the stories, sorry. Though I'm not really sorry. I mean, I'm not about to rush. I know you really like me and I think I feel the same. I feel really warm when we're together and like I wouldn't want to let anyone in the world really have you around if I can't be with you. I'm not sure how to explain it." He pauses and breathes in before he shifts and there, he moves to settle himself against me, shoulder to shoulder though it's more shoulder to arm and his head against my shoulder, I can feel him breathing against my neck and I'm sure a shower might not hurt me in the near by future. "I don't really want to rush into doing those physical things I've read about in the books but I think it might not hurt to admit aloud that things might move forward on their own now that I've admitted to things, right?"

I must have died, this has to be it. Though his warm breath against my neck is straining my control. I wouldn't jump him but my libido still has a pretty good control over me and I don't know how long I can keep my hormones from taking over and letting him know how much I like him right where he's at. I think that would be rushing though. "That sounds about right, though now I'll be absolutely honest with you, Quentin. The way you're settled and just… my neck is really sensitive and you're sort of turning me on. I don't want you to think I'm rushing but I might just need to have myself a bit of private time before too long."

"Oh. Uh…" and he's now looking up to me, his lashes halfway down over those gorgeous eyes that are almost like molten gold. "Well, you could show me how you do it." 

Oh hell. I guess this is a big step forward in our relationship and I swallow against the sudden desire that is trying to overwhelm me. One thing after the other. I breathe in deep and straighten lightly, nudging him to do the same. I turn my gaze on his and now I feel those strings tighten to the point of no return around my heart. His gaze is so open, so trusting. "First things first. Before we jump head in into any of this. I really, really like you. I'm pretty sure I love you. I'm not expecting you to feel ready to say those words yet, I don't mind. But we're going to do things right. Do you want to me mine?"

I don't want to use labels. 'Boyfriends' is just one of these terms and 'lover' isn't fitting yet. 'Being mine' is broad, it can be emotional as much as it can be physical and he'll still be the one to set the boundaries and the speed at which we travel towards them.

He blinks at me, his head canting but he smiles, oh he smiles and I do feel myself melting utterly. "I think I could like the idea of being yours, Yael. If that means I don't have to share you with anyone else this way, then yes."

Relief, I've never felt relief flood me in this way but it's there and I lean closer to him, I press my lips to him. I've never actually kissed anyone before him and I know we'll learn together but the feel of his lips is just perfect and how he breathes that sweet little sigh, I know we're on a good path for now.

I'll be sketching so much more from now on that I know I really can. I might even show him some of those countless pages I have of nothing but him. The tame stuff first. Of course.


	28. Floating

As per Yael's request, we hired someone who had a team with some knowledge of botany to help us clear out the 'bad' out of the yard so we could then hire someone else to set up a bit of a fence. We have in mind to get in touch with someone who builds up cat play pens so the boys can have somewhere they can discover the outside in safety. All of it Yael's idea of course but he's the one with the mind for design and art and all, it makes me think of him as a muse more than a demon. Still, even if he is a muse and not a demon, we are still different from humans in that, well, we're _not_ humans. Plus, I have come to terms that I do want him in my life for who he is and not what he is.

August is the hottest month, here in Dunkerque. It's sticky humid. I had forgotten how bad it gets. Not that it's that bad but it is uncomfortable and I'm now more than glad we have the pool to keep ourselves comfortable with. It's almost a daily thing now, mostly since we bought that floating thing. It's like a mattress but it has slightly raised sides and we both fit on there more than comfortably. That and the cats have yet to let their claws out anywhere near it, as if they understand that it's a big no no.

We settle on the water usually just a little bit before sunrise. The way the building is set up and where the pool is, with one wall with sight to outside, we actually can't really see the sun as it rises or sets, but we still have a gorgeous view of outside and we can see the sky start to clear up while we're settled there, just floating and enjoying peace and quiet.

Yael is so affectionate. I had misunderstood what a relationship really was about. Not that it's a bad way, this is honestly much better. I thought it would be all about doing these sex things to one another, mostly. I guess it's one of these things that adult books don't really tell you much about. It's easier to learn with him. I feel like I'm on a cloud, it's so perfect. Of course now I wake every day with that issue but after he showed me how he took care of his own trouble, I learned a bit better and I can't say I'm going to complain to waking up like that. It's a good, pleasurable start to a day.

Right now, he's just settled against me, his head nestled on my shoulder (his toes in the water! He's taller than me somewhat), his legs nestled with mine and he's just breathing warmly against me. I can understand why he reacted the way he had when I was settled in a similar way last time. We're on the floater, just relaxing, enjoying the quietness of almost morning. There's a fine mist of rain outside but I doubt it'll be enough to cool down the upcoming day.

To keep things from moving too fast though, we're both wearing our swimsuits. We discussed things through and while we're both comfortable with the idea of being bare around one another isn't an issue, we thought that if things started to, you know, rise, it would be a little more private in its own way. Less temptation with being covered too so this is all for the better.

I honestly think he's dozed off, his breathing is steady and I can feel his heart. I can't complain. It makes me wonder about how much he was holding back before. Now he's always at my side if I'm not doing something I need space for. He's not invading, just there. There are little touches, brush of fingers, brush of lips, that warm, wanting look in his eyes. It makes me so warm inside. I really didn't know what I was getting into but I like it. I really, really like it. I don't want to share him with others.

Yesterday, he showed me some of the sketches he'd been doing. I noticed a lot of sketchbooks in that little trunk he keeps under his bed (and I have no idea what the other one is) but he picked out the oldest one. Told me we could start with this one and as things moved along, we could see about the rest. I don't have much of an issue with that. He really has a talent to capture the emotions in things, to capture the flowing lines. Those sketches are beautiful and I'm not saying that because they were of me. It's in his art style.

I admit I blushed a lot when he showed me the later pages of the book, some of these sketches were far from innocent. I didn't ask to know how long he'd been drawing these. I almost feel bad for not having realized how long it's been since he's been feeling this way about me. I know I'm dense about these things and my discomfort about the idea of something like a human's relationship was really present. I've realized that it's not just humans who have this kind of relationship in the end so there isn't really anything to be fretful of worried about. This is all so natural.

  


He shifts a little against me, nestling a little closer and I can't help but breathe a sweet, pleased smile. He feels so right against me, like we were meant to be settled this way. While I'm shorter and I know, in a way, it would make more sense that I'd be the one nestling up to him as I'd fit 'better' against him, this feels natural. I can't help but just appreciate it.

We don't share a bed, I don't know that I'm ready for that just yet and our mattresses aren't the same, his is softer than mine, mine is a lot firmer, we'd have to see if either one of us can sleep in the other's bed of if we somehow wouldn't have to get a middle-ground mattress. When we really feel like we have to stay the night together, we end up falling asleep on the couch. It's wide and comfortable. We wake up with slight kinks in our backs but they get worked out fast enough with a hot shower.

But this kind of sleeping together, just nestled close, floating on the water in the middle of our little oasis is fine and perfect. I just want to hold him this way to the end of the world. I'm not even sure where this need to possess him utterly comes from but it's all there and I can't imagine letting anyone else ever have a chance of getting close to him this way. He's mine, absolutely mine and I won't share. I refuse to share.


	29. Wood

I don't think I realized how much wood-area there was at the back of the property when I bought it. I mean, I'm aware that I'm on the edge of the city, that everything requires more than just five minutes to get to—something I don't mind much, really—but I didn't really think. I bought the warehouse because I figured it would make for a beautiful sort of place once it was fixed up and I know that by buying the warehouse I essentially had bought the grounds that came with it. In the end it's mostly that I bought the grounds and the warehouse came with but I never truly realized how big said grounds were.

When we first started up the clean up of the back yard to set something up for the cats to have a play area on the outside, we kept close to the building but it left me wondering. I knew I had bought land but I didn't know how big it was. So I went off on a hunt to find my ownership papers and all that human-rot that proves I own this place to find out more. The lot number, the information, the width and length and the rest. 

Turns out I have a lot more than I thought and it's now all private land. Call me possessive but I don't really want anyone wandering through my property so I might have a slight sort of fence set up on the perimeter of the land with signs posted up. I'm aware it might not keep everyone out but it should give me a better chance at discovering my own land first instead of finding it littered with debris and food wrappers and the rest. Though we're far enough from the rest in that direction that I'd like to think it still is, in the end, 'virgin' land. It hasn't had many visitors, if any.

Looking at the maps I brought back home from downtown with the boundaries marked out, I realized that we actually have a bit of a river going through a bit of a walk away. The rest is mostly all forest and wooded area from what I can tell but I think it'll be worth a good bit of exploring. We can take makers as we go and whatever equipment we might need—Yael will know this better than me—and set the makers at the lines so that whoever we hire to set up the fence knows where to set it up.

I'm aware we won't be able to do this marking thing in a single day, the whole area is really huge and from what the maps tell me, there's a lake at the end and it's in there that the boundaries end. They round up in the water and come back to land a distance off. Means that folks could get on the water and onto the property that way but I don't really see that happening. I don't even know if that lake can be swam in. Though this is an old map, for all I really know that lake could be dried up or something, they haven't done any updating lately. We'll see.

  


I want to take Yael along when I check out the woods just beyond the edge of where we cleared things up to set up the playpen for Areli and Lavi. Though it'd be better to take him there to explore in autumn, I bet the colours are going to be so beautiful he'll have sketch ideas for weeks to come, if he can stop sketching me for a bit.

The thought of that makes me blush a little and I feel a warmth spreading through me. He seems me as this beautiful, almost ethereal soul and I don't know that I am but I can't argue with him and what his eyes see as beauty. There are so many sketches of me in his books that it made me a little self conscious for a few days. Now though, I just try to not think about it and I tell myself that if he wants to sketch me, he can. It does me no harm, really.

I've been thinking about buying a camera. I tell myself we should take at least a photo every now and again, to keep memories of the time we spent together. Photos we can look back on in a few decades and appreciate for the innocence we had then. I know we won't look much different in those few decades ahead than we do now, else than we might change our style, the way we wear our hair or our clothes but otherwise, I'm about as old as I'll ever look physically, for the first few centuries I assume, in any case. I don't know how long I'll live.

It's not something I spend much time thinking about at this point. I have him with me and he makes every time we wake up just wonderful. It feels surreal to wake up and pad out into the living room or kitchen or wherever it is he is at that point and to just hug him, feel him melt a little against me. We're affectionate, I'm learning from him. We kiss, a lot honestly and it's marvellous. We haven't really done anything else and I'm even better with that. It's a good learning pace.

What I really like is those times when we're just relaxing, doing nothing at all and we end up nestled closely. Feeling him against me, his steady breathing, I can feel his inner peace, though maybe it's more of a sense than a feel but really, it all amounts to the same thing in the end. I feel like I'm helping him to relax and he's doing the same with me. I'm so much more at peace with myself since we started spending even more time together—really spending time together, not just being together in the same room—that it feels wonderful.

I haven't really changed that much. I'm still not all that comfortable around humans and other kind of mortal things but I'm getting much better about it. I'm not twitching at the idea of spending time around them and I open up a little easier. Not to say I tell them anything about myself but I'm not as tight-lipped and it's easier to discuss of those things I need when I need them.

Yael is a beautiful influence on me and I didn't think things would have taken this turn when I asked him to move in with me almost a year ago. I cherish this life with all I have and live it one day after the other. I think this is how everything should be, really.


	30. Something Witnessed

Murder is a common theme in the world, that much is a sad fact I realized after watching a documentary though I'm aware I should not believe everything I see. Still. In this part of the city, on the edge where everything is usually peace and quiet with very little noise or adventure, we have had to witness a gruesome sight.

It didn't much get to me, I suppose because of how I was raised, of how many people I saw die out in the cold. Of how often we'd wake up to kids who hasn't been huddled enough to the pile or whose health had been poor and hadn't made the night. Of course it's different, the scenes aren't the same but I'm jaded to these kind of things.

Yael, with his growing up in the streets, I would have thought that maybe he would have seen a few of those things too but I overestimated the kind of things he'd seen growing up and he's closed in, he spends most of his time in his room, clinging to a pillow as if it would take away his pain, take away the images he must be seeing. He's been waking up screaming for the past days, ever since it happened.

He did see more than me, he was up on the second floor, tending to the garden and I heard him scream. He'd never screamed before so I assumed the worst and I guess it was, for him. It's not much for me, other than a startling sort of sight but for him, I guess it shut something down in the depth of him.

Beyond the window, down at street level, all I saw was the body of a young man, clutching at his throat. He was bleeding out, the puddle was growing and then some. I only had the sense to pull Yael away from that window and down to the living room with me. Sure I could have called the cops, could have called the ambulance but I'm pretty sure someone else had already done it, by the time I got him down to the couch I could hear the sirens, but as it was, sad as it is, I was pretty sure the guy wasn't going to make it. You don't survive having your throat sliced open the way his seemed to be, from what I could see at our distance.

That and I was more worried about Yael in the end. He was stiff in my arms, his eyes wide and blank. He was quiet, staring off into the distance as if he was locked on to the scene he'd just seen, a scene I wish I could wipe from his memories. In a way, I think I could do it but that's digging deeper into what I am than I am comfortable with at this point and without any kind of practice I might just mess up his mind in a really bad way, so I didn't even let it stay in my mind as more than a very briefly passing thought.

It took nearly half an hour before he finally started to go limp. I never strayed from his side. He rocked slowly side by side, whimpering. His face in his hands. I felt so useless. I still feel useless now as I rock him back to as a relaxed state as I can manage. Another nightmare he woke up screaming from. At this point I might have to see about either trying to get him to open up and talk to me, or I'll have to find someone for him to talk to and I don't know that this option is safe at all. He could talk about more than just what he saw and if the doc thinks he's cuckoo, I'll lose him more than likely forever.

  


His head is on my shoulder, I can feel the wetness of his tears and he mumbles softly, a little incoherently. I just hold him closer, I rub his back and I breathe in the scent of his hair. He feels so tense and stressed, it breaks my heart not knowing what to do with him. The air outside is still sticky to a point of discomfort but we might just do that camping thing. It would take his mind away from the streets, I think. The cats have an automatic feeder, a running fountain for their water and there are a couple of large litter-boxes in the house for them to use. I usually clean up two to three times a week depending and even then they're rarely needing it. So they could be fine on their own for a day or two.

We could just head in towards the wood, have a walk for an hour or so. Settle in a clearing. Just to be surrounded by nature and nothing else. We wouldn't be too far from civilization but being partly away from it might just help him. I don't know what else to do. I just want to hold him against me until he stops trembling, until those tears dry away to nothing, until the terror of what he's seen stops haunting him and I don't think that holding him would fix that.

I know that when I came back from Siberia, in shock and all the rest, I just wanted to be by myself, to forget the world existed but then I think back to that journal he got for me. It makes sense in my head at this point that maybe I should get him a journal for him to write these fears into. I know he draws, he still hasn't stopped drawing though he does it a lot less for how exhausted he is during his waking hours, but writing is different, if he can get it out on paper, maybe we can then burn it as a sort of release from the world. I'll bring it up to him when he's had more than just an hour or so of restless sleep.

He's starting to sag a little now, I can hear him sniffle softly and mumble and I know it's an apology. I just kiss his cheek and tell him there's nothing to be sorry for. I hug him a little tighter before I shift and move to settle down on his bed. I pull him with me as I go. This is going to be our first night sharing a bed but it's for his own good and I know it's not for our personal enjoyment. He just needs comfort and company. I don't mind doing that for him. It's like those nights we spent on the couch, nestled and resting, content and asleep. That I'm in his bed doesn't change the set up, other than there's more room.

He stiffens a little against me as I tug somewhat to get him to settle down with me but he gives in before too long, settling his head against my shoulder. He sniffles again softly, mumbling another apology and I just brush hair somewhat away from his face, his eyes are still wet and it's a terrible sight. I wish I could take his pain away.

"It's okay, you need to rest and I don't mind being here. I want you to get better and that's the only important thing. We'll work on you getting better soon, I promise. For now try to get a bit more sleep, you're exhausted."


	31. On a Hill

We did camp out, as I'd brought up. I think he did it more for me, thinking I wanted to go out there to enjoy the quietness of outside though it really was for him. We spent two nights out there in the woods, not far from home and he had nightmares both nights. They weren't at bad though. I don't know if it's because I was holding onto him as he slept or because we were outside.

I've taken to sharing my bed with him over the last week. He sleeps better but just barely, he doesn't wake up screaming though he tosses, turns and whimpers. It breaks my heart. So today, since the day is clear and we _are_ out at daylight as our sleeping hours really are mucked right now—I don't mind that much, I just want him to get better—I took him out. We got on the train, I didn't tell him our destination and we just wandered off. He rested for part of the trip with his head on my shoulder. He was relaxed and mostly quiet. 

I bought him a plain, empty journal for him to write in but I covered it up, weaved up a really beautiful cover in gold and I covered the book with it. I'll be giving it to him at our destination. I should have given it to him before but it didn't really seem to be the best of times.

The train is slowing and I can see the signs, this is our stop. I nudge him gently, kiss his cheek and curl my fingers to his to lead him up and outside. I don't really care what people might say or think of the hand-holding. If they don't like it, it's their problem, not mine. I'm just showing him that he's not alone in the world and that I'm by his side.

He looks around a little blearily, confused I'd assume, by the surroundings. We're halfway to where the bed and breakfast was. Since I only wanted this as a single-day outing, I figured it was best. If we go back to the bed and breakfast we might have to take the boys with us and I'm not sure it'd be appreciated just yet, though they do well with wandering on harnesses.

I lead him off the platform, through the station where he doesn't even glance about and outside, past the front door. I squeeze his hand gently and he does squeeze back so I know he's still with me mentally. It is important, after all. I wouldn't want him to be millions of miles away from me as I try to ease the terror that surround him at this point.

"Come on, from the maps I read, it should be about twenty minutes or so a walk from here but it's worth every step from what I've seen." I've taken the habit of wandering through websites and looking at photos and finding out more information. I really wasn't comfortable with technology until he came into my life and I guess he changed me. For the better, it makes keeping track of my money so much easier too. I couldn't be able to afford any of this if it wasn't for that money, in the end.

We walk in peaceful silence, I can tell there's no real tension between us, towards our goal. Or I walk towards our goal and he follows me with a certain lightness to his step. I guess we should go out more often. To do nature stuff that is. None of that locked-inside-in-a-dark-room movie stuff. That doesn't make sense to me. People should be spending time together outside when weather permits. It's still early in the day so the stickiness of later hours is not upon yet. It might be when we get back to the train but that is for later.

The walk takes a little longer than I had thought it would but before too long we're in front of a slight pathway leading up a hill. It's good exercise, it clears the mind so we start up the steps as I tell him a little about this place and how I'd found out about it. On my left side, as he's holding onto my right, I pat the small carry-on I have with me. In it one sketchbook, a few pencils and the journal I want to give him, oh, and a bit of food. I don't want him starving, he hasn't been eating well. The website I browsed on said there were picnic tables at the top of the hill though it's almost a tiny little mountain though I guess it's mostly that there's a valley below on the other side.

At the top, I hear him catch his breath and I can't help but smile lightly. The view _is_ beautiful, I really don't have any words for it. If we look back, we see a quiet little city with just a little bit of hustle and bustle. But ahead of us, it does dip into a valley with a river and trees and just, it's beautiful.

He squeezes my hand and I lead him to one of the picnic tables. We're alone here right now and I'm more than thankful, I think it's better this way. I put the bag on the table and smile at him, pulling out at first our small lunch though it still is at least a couple of hours until lunch, his sketchbook and the small pouch in which he keeps his basic sketching tools and there, the journal I bought and prettied up. I push it towards him and take a breath before letting it out.

"Months ago, you bought me a journal, told me I should write in it, it would help. I didn't think it would so I didn't at first. It honestly took me a while before I started using it but it has helped me tremendously. That and your presence at my side, of course. So I got you this book, I made the cover since I know it's your favourite colour. I thought maybe, if writing down what troubled me, helped me, it might help you just the same. I'm worried about you and I want to do all I can to help you get better." I hadn't expected him to cry. I suppose I should have but it hadn't crossed my mind so I do the only thing that makes sense at that moment. I pull him to me and I hug him for all I'm worth.

His arms curl about me and cling to me as if I were his only salvation and I feel something break inside of me. He's been acting so strong. I knew he was hurting but I hadn't thought a simple thing like this would bring him to tears.

I let him cry himself out, I don't try to make him stop, that wouldn't really do anyone any good. He needs to cry himself empty and it's what he does. Almost ten minutes before he quiets down and sniffles, wiping his noise on a tissue. I guess he's been carrying some of those in his pockets. I should have thought about it. He gives me a tired, red-eyed smile and kisses me cheek before wiping his eyes dry again.

"I'll try to write it all down. I don't even understand why it's giving me nightmares. I suppose it reminds me of Sterling-" he pauses there and I blink at him, my head canted slightly to the side, "I'll tell you about him later, like I'll tell you about Beauvais and the rest, you deserve to know." 

He's honest with me and I appreciate that to no end. I was not honest with him when we started living together but now I do my best to not hide anything from him.

  


We stay at the little park on the hill until the sun begins to lower itself slightly over the horizon. We talk about nothing and everything. Nothing really meaningful, just discussions about the going ons of the world around us, how things are growing in the garden, how well Areli and Lavi are doing. Just day to day things.

We walk, hand in hand, shoulders nearly touching, back to the train station that will take us back home where we'll settle on the couch for a while, cuddle. He needs it, I think I need it and it'll do us both good. I just want to hold him to me. Feel him breathing against me. I think I'll stick to sleeping with him in his bed for a while more still. Until he tells me it's enough, if he tells me it's enough. 

Anything to see him smile again.


End file.
